


I Know You Care

by HanShaped (Herra_Sombra)



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 3x18, AU, All That Build-Up Tension Blows Up, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Love Confession, Angst, Daddy Issues, Dickishly Stubborn Lucifer Morningstar, Emotional Chloe Decker, Episode: s03e18 The Last Heatbreak, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance with a hint of Mystery, Some Things Are Said That Change Everything, Wing Reveal, and crime, post-3x18
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-04-14 17:13:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14140698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herra_Sombra/pseuds/HanShaped
Summary: What if the Broken Hearts Killer case marked the start of a different romance altogether, one that was long awaited, but not devoid of difficulties?Months of build-up frustration take its toll on Chloe, as she's had enough of avoiding her feelings, which sparks up a much needed conversation between the Detective and the Devil. She asks questions that he refuses to answer to, and so a screaming match begins.As a result, hearts are opened and secrets revealed. But, with old insecurities getting in the way and real evil lurking in the shadows, is it for better or for worse?(Next chapter: September 8 — the update day's been moved to Saturday)





	1. Before We're Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bit late to the party, but better late than never.  
> And the newest episode ended so... hopelessly, that I had to write something to change some of those developments.  
>   
> In consequence, I introduce you to a story that turned from a short one-shot into a multi-chaptered fic quite quickly if I'm to be honest. I have a general idea where it leads, but the estimated length may yet change. Luckily, I have the first few chapters lined up, so it shouldn't result in long pauses between them.  
>   
> It's my first fic to _Lucifer_ , and I sincerely hope that everyone is bearably in character (I've been told that Chloe might be slightly OOC, but it's for the better apparently, and I do hope it is). If you find any mistakes regarding things that happened before or during 3x18, please, tell me.  
> Timeline is quite vague on purpose, since they do not mention many particular dates in the show.  
>   
> And, because why not, I strongly recommend listening to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0QovC8cHjlw). I found it after I came up with the title, but it fits so perfectly (and the titles of chapters are going to be fragments of that song).  
> Oh, and as it is my first multi-chaptered story, I'll do my best to publish weekly, or at least every two weeks. There's a lot going on in my personal life right now, but writing is my coping mechanism, so I hope I'll keep doing it.  
>   
> It's unbetaed, just proof-read, since I don't know any kind soul that could do that, so pointing out any mistakes is very appreciated!  
> 

Chloe closed the front door behind Olga with a quiet thump, taking a deep breath. A lot had happened today, more than she would ever wish. Not only had they dealt with a dangerous serial killer on the loose, but she had also faced aftermath of that fateful concert-date with Marcus and all doubts she still had about pursuing that relationship.

If it wasn’t bad enough, though, her roommate was gone, heading to God-knows-where, and Chloe now needed a good heart-to-heart girl talk more than ever. Even if Maze hadn’t actually listened, Chloe would’ve at least got a chance to voice what was nagging her, hopefully sorting it out in the process.

In all honesty, what was happening with Marcus seemed too good to be true, too… _surreal_. She enjoyed the perspective of being in a relationship again (oh, how she missed it sometimes), that was sure. Yet, she had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever they were spending time together, as though her gut was trying to tell her something’s wrong. The question remained, what.

A distinct knocking brought her back to reality before she had a chance to step away farther from the door. “Olga, did you forget something?” She expected to see her neighbour standing outside, but it turned out she couldn’t be more wrong.

“Well, that’s a new one.” An all-too-familiar British voice resounded from behind the door. “I’ve never been mistaken for an Olga before.” Lucifer flashed her his trademark smirk, and quickly strolled inside.

“What are you doing here?,” she asked, having closed the door, positively surprised by his presence.

To come over unannounced wasn’t anything new when it came to Lucifer—or unexpected, for that matter. She was taken aback by it, though, for they’d just seen each other, and she couldn’t find any sensible reason for his visit. But it was Lucifer—some things around him just didn’t make sense.

A smug look vanished from his face, replaced with a strange apprehension, and she immediately wondered if something bad had happened. “I am—I wanted to explain,” he started uncertainly. She knew instantly that that tone of voice was reserved for rare moments when he chose to uncover his more vulnerable side. “Look, I know that I’ve been acting—”

“Insecure?,” she couldn’t help but interject, giving him a stern look. “Childish? Possessive?”

For a moment he looked like he was going to deny it, but upon seeing Chloe’s expression, he must’ve deemed it nonsensical. “Well, I was going to say ‘strangely’, but—” He sighed, as if ready to admit his defeat. “Never mind. The truth is, perhaps I was slightly insecure about Pierce moving on our partnership.”

That was how he felt about the whole thing, then. She should’ve thought earlier that Lucifer might get that impression, even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. She shook her head, looking at him earnestly. “Oh, Lucifer, that’s not what’s happening.”

“I know, because I’ve realised that there is room in your life for—all sorts of relationships,” he said, his eyes not leaving hers even for a split second, “even if one of them is with him.” He dropped his gaze, seemingly having a great difficulty with saying the two last words.

Hearing that, her heart squeezed in her chest. It wasn’t what she was expecting from her reckless and impulsive partner, whose level of maturity most of the time matched the one of her daughter. And yet, at rare occasions just like that one, he appeared to be more understanding than all men she’d ever encountered, including Dan. It reminded her of that fateful day on the beach, and she abruptly felt a strong urge to kiss him all over again. “I—,” she began, not really knowing what to say, but she was instantly cut off.

“Just—Please, be careful,” he requested, eyeing her intently.

Chloe wasn’t able to stand seriousness of his gaze, so a snort escaped her throat. Always, when she thought he couldn’t be any more charitable, he was surprising her once again. She just had no idea why he was still pretending that he felt nothing—that there was nothing between them.

Lucifer took her reaction as an acceptance of his plea. “Okay,” he said more to himself, smiling nervously.

Chloe regarded his face for a moment. It was enough, however, for her to finally understand what was off when it came to Marcus. As a great guy as he was, he could never be Lucifer Morningstar—an arrogant club owner, who thought he’s the Devil himself, and the one she really wanted to be in a relationship with.

She was quite annoyed with herself, to be honest. It’d been months since they had almost happened and she still wasn’t able to move on from it, despite the fact that essentially nothing had happened. How pathetic of her, acting like she was a teenager with a giant crush on the most popular guy in school. She should’ve just let it go, but her heart knew better.

Besides, there still might be a chance. Knowing well that it’s better to try and fail than regret not facing the challenge, Chloe decided to take a risk. _Just throw caution to the wind_ , she told herself forcefully. “Do you want to stay? I can make some coffee and we can—”

Lucifer winced slightly, and her hopes plummeted. “Ah, I can’t, unfortunately. There’s a bachelor party at Lux and, well—” He smiled apologetically, looking a little nervous.

“Okay, another time.” Her voice was a little too harsh for her taste, but she couldn’t stop a feeling of disappointment from filling her chest.

That was absurd. It wasn’t like they were together or anything, she shouldn’t be mad at him for having his own plans. Her behaviour was foolish and unacceptable, not suiting a mature woman that she was.

“Yes,” he affirmed, walking past her towards the front door.

She could tell that what he did was purposeful. He was running, _again_. The only thing she couldn’t wrap her mind around was _why_. One would have to be blind not to see how jealous of Pierce he was, and yet when given a perfect opportunity to move on her, he’s just fleeing the scene.

She gritted her teeth. This—all of this—had to stop, _now_. No more running from the thing that was between them, or else she would lose her mind.

Before any doubts could surface in her head, she turned around, in time to see her partner reaching for a door handle. “Lucifer, wait.”

* * *

Even though Lucifer wholeheartedly meant what he had told her, it was quite a feat for him to keep his composure. Despite the notion of jealousy being far from foreign to him, he had never experienced it in such a way. It wasn’t that he had never felt it—there was nothing he was more jealous of than human free will, after all. That, however—not taking his rebellious stunt into consideration—had never caused him to act as stupidly as today. He had never perceived humans as his rivals in any way, in spite of longing for their greatest God-given attribute.

Now, though, Pierce appeared to be his adversary all of a sudden. In the past few months, they might have been described using that peculiar human term— _frienemies_ , but Lucifer had never deemed Cain a threat, not until now. Which was ridiculous, really, as Chloe didn’t belong to anyone, especially to the Devil of all beings, so he had no right to be so possessive of her.

As much as he hated watching her and Pierce, at least she finally had a chance to experience real happiness—a chance to free herself from that preposterous infatuation that his dear Dad callously bestowed upon her. The only way to go was to treat it like a blessing in disguise. His heart throbbed mercilessly, but this time it was _not_ about him.

He was about to make his exit, but her quiet voice effectively stopped him. “Lucifer, wait.” He came to a halt abruptly, his hand just inches away from a door handle.

While a bit panicked part of him begged him to just leave and go about his evening as if that whole visit hadn’t even taken place, something in her tone made him look at her over his shoulder with noticeable interest. He could see that she struggled with her words, her gaze set firmly on the floor right before his feet.

She took a deep breath, to clear her thoughts, he presumed. “What if—,” she started warily, her fingers reaching to a bullet pendant around her neck. She still avoided his face, as if she was afraid of his reaction. “What if I don’t want a relationship—romantic relationship—with Marcus?” She looked up at him at last, her eyes full of both wonder and reluctance.

Lucifer blinked, shocked by her confession. He might have utterly misunderstood the situation, though he could swear that was unlikely. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Detective,” he said slowly, tilting his head.

With her fingers wrapped around the bullet, she started toying with the necklace. “The truth is—” She bit her lower lip, and he could swear the Detective was flustered. “I’m not sure if I want it. I mean, it could be nice to be going out again, but maybe I don’t want to date Marcus. It… it doesn’t feel right, you know,” she admitted, looking at everything but him.

A quiet “oh” escaped his lips. It wasn’t something he’d been expecting to hear. She had looked so happy, almost glowing with unspoken joy while being with Pierce, that he had hard time believing her statement. His naïve heart almost skipped a beat, hoping against hope that maybe it meant she… Then it dawned on him. _Dear ol’ Dad’s back in the game._

His body immediately tensed. It was getting ridiculous—now she couldn’t even date normally. How cruel He must be to do something like that to such a beautiful and pure creature was beyond Lucifer’s comprehension. Even so, it was His thing, wasn’t it? Mercifully giving something, then heartlessly taking it away just as easily. If Lucifer had ever thought that he couldn’t possibly harbour any more hatred towards his Father, he knew now how misguided such a belief had been.

Chloe waited for a moment, clearly certain he would add something, probably a quip or a pun. Upon seeing his lips were pursed, she decided to continue: “I thought I wanted it, but it turns out—I don’t know. It’s just—he’s my boss—it’s hardly professional. And looking at him I realised I want—” she stopped for a moment, giving him a strange look, an emotion Lucifer wasn’t able to identify behind her eyes, “—something else from a relationship.”

“Well, in that case I am glad that you are successfully sorting out what it is that you desire, since I am clearly unable to help.” He smirked, looking at her smugly, even if it felt a bit forced.

Despite his greatest efforts to keep his composure, he was afraid the Detective could see signs of his inner turmoil, she was too bloody observant. He couldn’t stay here any longer or else his carefully constructed cool façade would shatter. And yet, he was incapable of forcing himself to leave the Detective, all because of his stupidly egoistic heart.

As if his weakness wasn’t bad enough, there was something in Chloe’s expression—in her beautifully sky-blue eyes ( _oh, what a divine irony, Dad_ )—that made him even more drawn to her. So much warmth and… was it really affection? No one had looked at him like that in eons, and she was a very welcomed exception. It wasn’t _real_ , however, he reminded himself brutally.

Lucifer took a deep breath. The dame blocking his feelings was cracking dangerously, so that it almost broke. He had to stay strong, though—stripping her of a chance to make an autonomous choice was the last thing he wanted. He would never lower himself to his Dad’s pathetic level.

Suddenly, any remaining traces of hesitation disappeared from Chloe’s face, and sheer determination took over. Her jaw set, she took a step closer to him, but still not entering his personal space. “I think it’s high time we discussed… this,” she said firmly, with a tone resembling her Mom voice, motioning between them with one of her hands.

Lucifer blinked again, trying to pinpoint a direction, in which she was taking their conversation. There was something dreadfully serious in her words, though, and a small voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to flee, despite his face remaining blank.

Chloe was apparently searching for something in his emotionless expression. Having not found it, she puffed irritably, gritting her teeth. “I mean, _us_ ,” she explained impatiently, seemingly annoyed by his cluelessness. “I’m tired of avoiding it. I—I don’t want to do this anymore, Lucifer.”

* * *

Although Chloe hated how desperate she sounded, she couldn’t care less about it at the moment. The objective was clear in her mind—she had to finally put an end to all that untold things between them. Her eyes back on him, she was begging him mutely to react somehow to her words.

She took another deep breath. No one said that opening your heart was an easy task. Seeing that he was still dreadfully silent, she chose to continue, her voice small: “I can see that you’re doing many things that contradict it, but I know you care,” she said forcefully. “You _do_ , don’t you?”

“I do,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. In spite of it, it was enough for Chloe to hear.

“Then, why?” She looked at him expectantly, terrified as she realised that her eyes started prickling.

She couldn’t—and she wouldn’t—cry in front of him, not now when they might at long last make some progress. Despite her tenacity, emotions that were gradually filling her up were too intense for her to have a full control over them. Months of silence, unanswered questions and a heartbreak she had barely dealt with came back to her in full force. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop it—the camel’s back broke.

“Why did you run away? _Why_?” It was almost a scream, desperation evident in cracks of her voice. “I want the truth, Lucifer. No more lies,” she accented every word, trying to get her wavering voice under control.

His dark eyes round, he stared at her for a long moment, his inner battle apparent in the way his jaw clenched and unclenched. “I—” He cleared his throat, looking away guiltily. “I can’t,” he whispered resignedly.

Her heart sank. She was really hoping that his whole rule of ‘I never lie’ would work to her advantage, but apparently it didn’t apply to her of all people. She ignored venomous thoughts, flooding into her mind, and yet couldn’t erase bitterness from her voice: “Omitting the truth is also considered lying, you know.”

Chloe crossed her arms, waiting for another blow. At this point, she wondered if it made sense at all, trying to get to him. He remained as distant as ever, building up even thicker walls that no one would be able to break through. Then, it hit her—he must’ve truly hated himself to disregard any opportunity for a little closeness. At this thought, some of her anger dissipated, though she still was far from being understanding of his persistent silence.

Lucifer seemed hurt by her statement, so there was a possibility that the rule was in force, after all. She shouldn’t be surprised, with her partner having such an inclination to bend the rules, that what he was doing probably made a perfect sense in a twisted way in his mind. “Detective, you are the last person I’d like to lie to,” he said honestly, if a bit affronted.

She snorted humourlessly, shaking her head. “Then why are you doing just that?,” she scoffed, tired of his irrational stubbornness.

Her statement that she knew exactly who Lucifer was still stood, therefore she was unable to comprehend why her partner was so insistent on keeping secrets from her. No matter what he would say—and how horrible would it be—it could never significantly change the way she was seeing him. And what she saw was a good man struggling with the way others perceive him and with his own self-hatred.

Lucifer sighed, hiding hands in pockets of his designer suit. “To protect you,” he said simply, as if he was stating the obvious.

Chloe barely resisted the urge to snort again. This time his words angered her more than anything else he had said this evening. “I can protect myself just fine, thank you,” she said bitterly, her anger growing again. “Let me remind you that I am the one with a gun here.” A sweetly fake smile spread on her lips. Her voice was getting higher with every word, but her growing rage clouded her mind enough for her not to notice it.

He raised his hands shieldingly, clearly losing his own temper. “You don’t understand, Detective, it’s—”

She didn’t let him finish, she just couldn’t deal with those flimsy excuses anymore. “No, it’s _you_ who doesn’t understand.”

* * *

Lucifer groaned, his fists clenching under the grey fabric. As much as he admired the Detective’s strong-mindedness, in a situation such as this one it didn’t come much in handy, actually. It was beyond irritating how she couldn’t fathom a concept as simple as her safety.

Had he said something, her tirade might’ve been over. As he didn’t, however, it just escalated: “I can’t stand any more lies, Lucifer. I—our partnership won’t survive long if we’re not honest with each other,” she stated, her lower lip quivering. “And I’m getting sick of fighting with you over it. So, you either tell me the truth about what we are standing on, or—or that’s it,” she declared, with a grim sense of finality, her eyes glassy.

His throat suddenly felt very dry, so that he almost reached for his flask, but refrained from doing so in the end, as him drinking might only further enrage the Detective. It was difficult for he could tell he was sobering up, and that conversation was only getting more and more intense, not to mention the pain reflected in Chloe’s eyes that cut through his soul like one of Maze’s blades. And a sole thought that he was the one to cause her that suffering…

He gulped down a lump in his throat. Despite a very unreasonable part of him wanting to get this over with, to show her everything, he knew better than that. “I—As much as it pains me to say that, I can’t tell you,” he said hoarsely, wishing against all odds that she would drop the subject. Which, obviously, turned out to be very naïve of him.

Chloe looked away, biting her lower lip, her fists clenched at her sides. “I guess I was wrong about you,” she said weakly, barely keeping her voice even. “You _don’t_ care.”

He cast a hateful glance at the ceiling before closing his eyes. It broke his heart to see her suffering, but maybe it was better this way. Maybe it would enable him to make a clean break this time and vanish from her life for good this time. After all, everything was worth the Detective’s happiness and freedom, even his own misery.

However, before he could make a reasonable decision, his infamous egoism got the better of him yet again. “I do care,” he said sternly, his eyes locked with hers. If only she understood… “In fact—I—” Oh, he’s going to regret this later, _a lot_. “I love you, Chloe.” He watched as her eyes went wide, and her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something. He was faster than her, however. “And, as much as I do, it changes bloody nothing if you can’t make your own choice!”

She gave him an incredulous look, throwing her hands in the air. “Wha—?” She furrowed her eyebrows, his last statement clearly beyond her comprehension. “Obviously I can!,” she argued fervently, as if there was an obviousness of sorts that he was unable to grasp. “And I choose _you_!”

He smiled under his nose bitterly, paying no mind to the implications of her confession. “If only it was that simple—”

Chloe sighed irritably, stepping closer to him. He could almost see flames in her eyes, and he had to admit that he was quite surprised by her tempestuous emotional state. “But it is! What the hell is your problem?” There was so much of both incredulity and fury in her expression that it almost threw him off balance. He saw her so raw for the first time since their paths had crossed.

“Funny that you ask,” he muttered sourly. “I’ve already told you that telling you is out of the question, Detective, and I won’t repeat myself!,” he added much louder this time.

“But why?” Bitter tears practically fell from her eyes, she seemed not to care, though. “I love you too, Lucifer, what can be more important than that?,” she asked hopelessly, on the very edge of losing her composure.

Yelling at her truly wasn’t his intention, but he couldn’t help a howl rising from his throat: “Your own bloody free will!”

Lucifer’s scream reverberated through the house, as flames of rage licked his soul. He was certain his eyes were blazing—at least for a split second—the Detective, however, appeared to have ignored it, just like she always did. He couldn’t tell if it was more comforting or infuriating right now.

Out of a sudden, Chloe’s face fell, as if a realisation of sorts dawned on her. Hardly had he thought that she might have finally understood what he tried to convince her of, when she looked in the direction of her daughter’s room with a terrified expression. “Trixie,” she gasped, covering her mouth with a hand. Although it wasn’t that the spawn was in any actual danger, Lucifer must’ve admitted that there was a high possibility of their heated exchange waking her up, and even the Devil himself didn’t want that little human to hear things she shouldn’t have.

Chloe rushed to Trixie’s room to check on her, Lucifer paid it a little mind, however, preoccupied with an unpleasant itching on his back. His muscles contracted achingly, while he struggled to keep his wings hidden. It had been very close… Hiding his devilish—or rather angelic, as of late—self was much harder under influence of strong emotions, and he was never one to properly control his temper.

The Detective slowly opened the door to the spawn’s room and peeked inside. It took her a moment, but she eventually closed the door, relief washing down her face. “She’s still asleep,” she said, satisfied.

Some of the tension build up during their argument dissipated during that short interval. Therefore, after she came back closer to him, they stood for a long moment in a weirdly uncomfortable silence, that Lucifer finally decided to break, his voice much gentler this time: “What you feel, it is _not real_ ,” he explained patiently, suddenly taking a great interest in his shoes. “You are forced to feel it and I—I cannot take your freedom away from you.”

Chloe exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. He could no longer see any angry determination, so he concluded that he might’ve started getting to her. “And how would it even work?,” she asked tiredly, massaging her temples.

“I don’t have even a slightest idea,” he admitted without losing his nerve, “but in a twisted way it has to. It is always like that with Dad.” He sneered, looking up.

She clearly chose to ignore that last part, and instead set her yet again firm gaze on him. “I know what I feel, Lucifer—” she said through clenched teeth, stepping even closer to him, “—and it’s too fucking real.” A curse fell smoothly out of her mouth, equally shocking both of them, but none gave it a second thought.

Hot tears slowly rolled down Chloe’s cheeks, leaving behind trails of glistening skin. “I did my best to move on, but I just—I just can’t,” she declared sharply, “Not with you around, being that infuriatingly sweet and incurably indecent you.”

He looked at her for a moment, his mind a mess of tangled thoughts. Then, the possibility that her words presented came forth, and just like that a hasty plan was formed. “I suppose I should leave, then,” Lucifer said indifferently, his face expressionless.

He could tell that his words were essentially breaking her heart, as something—remnants of hope, probably—vanished from her eyes. That was the plan, however, wasn’t it? By breaking her heart, he could allow her to have a normal life— _a_ _better life_ —that she so clearly deserved. Furthermore, knowledge that she hated him now might stop him from coming back this time.

He turned on his heel, adjusting his cufflinks, demonstrating that he deemed their conversation finished. Before he could take a step, however, she grabbed his arm, and even though her grasp was tight, he knew he could easily free himself.

“If you leave now, it’s over.” Her voice was cold, but he was unable to miss a quiet desperation in a way she was clinging to his arm as though he was her lifeline.

He looked past his shoulder just like before, locking his eyes with hers. He knew that the Detective deserved the truth, and storming out of her apartment might break not only her heart, but also his own.

There was always another way out, though—it might be less painful for her if she was the one to throw him out of her home. That would also be a perfect opportunity for him to show her the truth, since knowing it, Chloe most likely wouldn’t even want to see him anymore.

“Do you really want to know what is my problem, Detective?,” he asked, his voice quiet, yet as cold as ice.

She regarded him for a moment, apparently not really believing that he would give her any answer. After searching his face for any signs of a joke or a lie proved fruitless, she just nodded firmly.

Lucifer took a deep breath, trying to remember as many details of her gorgeous face as he only could. Then, aware that he couldn’t stretch out that moment anymore, he closed his eyes tightly, turning around to face her. Even now, with nothing to lose, he dreaded her reaction. But it was now or never.

With soft rustling of feathers, his wings unfurled from his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know— _damn, that escalated quickly_.  
>  But, honestly, I can hardly imagine it happening in any other way at this point.  
> I know, it's very angsty, but it can only be better from now on.  
> Plus, it was quite interesting to write such an unconventional love confession. A great writing exercise.  
> I hope you liked it.  
> 'Till next week.  
> 


	2. Scared Of The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She took a few steps back, her hands finding its way to the counter to support her weight, since her knees suddenly felt like they had turned to jelly. It was… it had to be… but it wasn’t even possible. It couldn’t be. It had to be a very effective practical joke. A very _impossible_ practical joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, just like I've promised.  
>   
> I sincerely hope you'll enjoy that, since I'm not sure myself if it's that good — although I'm pleased with how it turned out and I feel like their reactions and interactions are probable, I'm not 100% sure you'll think about them the same. But hopefully you'll find them fitting too.  
>   
> From the news, I'm going to put a short preview of the next chapter (a little fragment of it) at the end of every chapter from now on (in the notes, of course).  
> To tease you a bit.  
> (Those previews will probably disappear as soon as the teased chapter has been posted.)  
>   
> Unbetaed, but proof-read.  
> Oh, and I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my first language, so mentioning possible mistakes is still very appreciated, thanks!  
>   
> Without further ado, enjoy!  
> 

She couldn’t remember what exactly she was dreaming about, but it involved an angry peacock and a hellish blade covered with peanut butter. Although it wasn’t the weirdest thing Trixie had seen while sleeping, there was something off about that dream—something that made her feel really bad—so she was happy that a sudden scream woke her up.

At first, she wasn’t sure who the voice belonged to, but soon she recognised Lucifer’s distinctive accent. His presence made her feel very excited, and she would’ve certainly jumped out of her bed and rushed to the living room if she hadn’t heard anger in his voice.

She looked over at the door, her brows furrowed. She couldn’t understand why he was so angry, and she didn’t remember hearing him sounding so… scary before. Maybe something bad had happened and— _Mommy_.

However, before Trixie could make a move—let alone come up with what to do—she heard footsteps, approaching quickly her room. She promptly closed her eyes, deciding that whoever it was, it was best if she pretended to still be asleep. “Monkey?,” she heard her mother’s soft whisper, and immediately felt relieved.

But it only made her more curious as to why Lucifer had got so emotional. So, as soon as her Mom left her room, Trixie lifted her head up. Having heard footsteps getting farther away, she climbed out of her bed and tiptoed across the room, careful not to make any noise. Cracking the door open, enough to peek into the living room, she could finally see what was happening.

Lucifer was standing close to the front door, his body tense, and he was looking down when her Mom approached him. Their voices were lower this time, so Trixie couldn’t make out what exactly they were saying. Both of them looked upset, though, and soon her worries came back.

Her breath quickened and she felt wetness gathering in her eyes. The memory of her Dad arguing with Maze immediately came to her mind, and she almost broke in tears again. She couldn’t lose another friend, because adults tend to do and say stupid things while they’re angry—just like her Dad had told her. What’s more, Trixie knew that if Lucifer and her Mom parted ways, Mommy would be really unhappy, and that would only make everything worse.

Why they were even doing this, Trixie couldn’t understand. Lucifer—and Maze, too—were so happy, hanging out with them. They were _family_. But then they were destroying it suddenly, as if it all meant nothing to them.

If it wasn’t for Lucifer’s words, Trixie might’ve broken down. “Do you really want to know what is my problem, Detective?,” she heard, having noticed with horror that Lucifer had almost stormed out of the house.

Trixie held her breath, waiting anxiously for what was going to happen. A part of her expected a bunch of hurtful words again, but it quickly turned out she was wrong, luckily. She watched as Lucifer closed his eyes and braced himself as if he was about to do something very hard.

Then, out of the blue, a beautiful pair of wings appeared behind his back. Trixie’s eyes went wide as she took in that incredible view.

She had been imagining those many times, but not one of her fantasies could ever match the sight before her. They were so beautiful, white as snow, with a majestic aura to them.

Trixie smiled softly to herself. She had heard the story of how Lucifer lost—or rather got rid of—his wings—Maze had surprisingly avoided many details, saying only that he’d not wanted them anymore, but, even despite Trixie’s curiosity, she hadn’t asked about them as her friend had seemed upset by that memory.

The girl was very happy now, though, that he’d got them back, they were gorgeous. She was already looking forward to the morning, so she could draw what she saw. Despite her eyelids growing heavy, she stayed at the door, nervously anticipating her Mom’s reaction.

* * *

Chloe’s breath hitched, as her fingers let go of Lucifer’s arm hastily. Her mind seemed to come to a halt upon seeing a pair of striking wings, sticking out of _her partner’s back_. They barely fitted within the hallway, their full span quite likely wider than the living room.

However, it wasn’t their size that got her attention, not really. Pearly feathers shined in the lights that illuminated her apartment, but she could swear there was an unearthly glow, too, emanating from them. They clearly didn’t belong here, their divinity obvious even to her sceptical mind.

She took a few steps back, her hands finding its way to the counter to support her weight, since her knees suddenly felt like they had turned to jelly. It was… it had to be… but it wasn’t even possible. It couldn’t be. It had to be a very effective practical joke. A very _impossible_ practical joke.

Her eyes shut, as she tried desperately to gather her thoughts. Sadly, her efforts had barely any result, as her mind only filled with dozens of memories of all the things about Lucifer that had made no actual sense up until this very moment. A quiet voice in the back of her mind mocked her that it had taken her so long to accept that there was something supernatural about her partner, like the fact that he was _a freaking angel_.

Chloe hid her face in her trembling hands, her breath getting shallow. Panic began to rise in her chest and she had to actively remind herself that having a mental breakdown right now, in front of Lucifer, wouldn’t end well. Even if she couldn’t wrap her mind around what she had just seen—it had essentially turned her whole life upside down—she assumed that it must have been difficult for him, too.

If it wasn’t for her shock right now, she would’ve laughed humourlessly. He’d been right back then—she really was selfless to a nauseating degree, as in spite of finding out that she hadn’t known the actual truth about the world around her, she still found herself worrying about her partner. _Her partner—the Devil_. That was ridiculous.

She groaned, pressing her fingers firmly to her temples. She had all the right to freak out—she knew she did—and yet her thoughts kept coming back to him, and not he’s-the-real-Devil him, but he’s-her-partner-best-friend-and-maybe-more him. It was… so confusing.

“Detective?,” he called her softly, bringing her attention back to him.

She slowly looked up, bracing herself. Their eyes met and she was able to see wariness and fear all over his face. He had to be very anxious about her reaction, which she didn’t really know how to feel about.

The wings were still there and she couldn’t help but wonder how they even worked—how he was capable of walking around with these majestic things completely hidden from view. The fact that there was very little that she understood about them only made her feel more lost in all of this. It wasn’t her world, after all—it was something utterly foreign to her, which in turn made it seem even scarier and more confusing.

Lucifer must’ve noticed the way she was glancing over them, and, with a roll of his shoulders, they were gone. “How did you—?” Her wavering voice broke before she could even finish that question.

He just shrugged. “Perhaps we ought to leave discussing the details for later, eh?” His eyes never left her face, clearly studying her reaction. “Are you okay?”

Chloe laughed nervously, a strained hysterical giggle escaping her throat. “Coffee wouldn’t do anymore,” she said weakly, not knowing herself if she meant it as a joke or just a casual remark.

Lucifer seemed puzzled by her inept attempts to use humour to dissolve some tension. She could say his anxiety had only grown, but he stayed silent, watching her intently. Only now did she realise that he hadn’t moved even an inch during that whole time. As comforting as it was, she found it a bit distressing, too. He was clearly waiting for a more serious reaction, a question or something of the like.

She took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts enough to hold an actual conversation. Once again, the implications of what had just happened came to her mind. “So, it is all true?,” she asked quietly, toying with the bullet on the chain around her neck. (Later on, she would have to ask him about that, too.)

“Yes.” He nodded firmly, still wary.

Chloe cleared her throat, trying to accept the fact that it meant she was talking to the real Devil. “They weren’t bizarre metaphors, some insanely devoted method acting or anything?”

He shook his head dismissively, snorting. “No.”

Chloe slowly nodded, her eyes focused somewhere far away. “You really are the Devil,” she stated plainly, unsure of how she felt about it.

Her partner winced slightly, apparently reading her statement as a not-so-favourable assessment. “Yes.” His voice was somewhat strangled and she could easily tell he was afraid of where that conversation was heading.

And, quite frankly, so was she. “It’s—a lot to take in.” She puffed, frowning.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said in a small voice, closing his eyes as if he dreaded asking the next question, or rather hearing an answer to it. “Do you want me to leave?”

Chloe looked up at him, pursing her lips. She wasn’t sure herself if she wanted him to go or stay, she had no idea what was worse. If he left, she would peacefully deal with it all on her own or just convince herself that it was only a mere product of her too vivid imagination. On the other hand, she had so many question—about God, Heaven and Hell, about him, about all of it—that only he could answer right now. “No—Yes—I don’t know.” She threw her arms in the air, annoyed by her own indecision. “I need time to process it—all of it,” she explained, desperately hoping he would understand.

Lucifer tried to smile reassuringly, but it came off as a little forced. “That you do and that’s not an issue,” he declared immediately. “I will provide you with as much time as you wish.”

“Lucifer,” and then she paused, hit by the realisation that she’d just called the Devil by his name. “Okay, that’s actually weird,” she muttered, slightly confounded. “Morningstar, really?” She looked back at him, suddenly baffled by his choice of the last name.

He sighed, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. “It’s accurate, so I do not have to lie about my identity,” he explained patiently. “And, as you know perfectly well, people don’t usually treat it very seriously.”

Chloe just shook her head, deciding to drop the subject since it wasn’t the most important thing she wanted to talk about right now. “Look—I can see it’s difficult for both of us, but—don’t run off,” she said earnestly, pleased with how steady her voice was. “You tend to do this, and as confused as I feel right now, I know we have to talk about what just happened.” She took a step closer to him, her boldness surprising both of them. “And I really want to talk about it, I’m just not sure if it’s a conversation for one evening.”

She looked at him pleadingly. Yes, she was looking at _the Devil_ , but it hadn’t fully sank in just yet, and who she saw was her partner she could trust with her life. Somehow, she was unable to combine those two personas into one, and she opted that for the sake of her mental health it was better to talk to him as if he was no more than Lucifer she knew and cared so much about.

* * *

Lucifer cleared his throat, nodding slowly. Although she had a point and he was aware that fleeing right after such a revelation would be very unfair to the Detective, a good part of him felt like it would be so much easier, vanishing from the face of the earth, maybe even literally.

However, just like he had told her back at the very beginning of their partnership, everyone had to face consequences of their actions, and deep down he knew it also applied to errors of his impulsiveness. So that Lucifer put his hands back in his pockets and waited for questions that were about to come.

Upon seemingly making sure he didn’t intend to go anywhere just yet, Chloe took a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “So, God really exists?,” she asked neutrally, but he could see concern in her eyes.

“He does,” he said, doing his best to convey as much contempt in this two words as he was capable.

She seemed not to notice it, though, too immersed in her thoughts. “I—I haven’t actually believed in any of that—,” she admitted quietly, an undertone of fear in her voice.

He gave her an incredulous look. It genuinely surprised him sometimes how fearful humans were of his absent Father, considering his normally bordering on lacking involvement in their lives. Pity that it didn’t seem to apply to that one woman he cared about.

“As if He even cared, Detective,” he scoffed. “He certainly enjoys His own cult, but, as much as it pains me to say that, He’s still more open-minded than most of those people,” he admitted reluctantly, sparing a quick glance at the ceiling.

For Chloe, though, it was clearly quite overwhelming. “Okay.” She nodded, her eyes still absent. “And Heaven and Hell are apparently a thing, too.”

“Yes, but, in all honesty, I’ve enjoyed my stay on Earth the most so far,” Lucifer admitted wholeheartedly, unable to stop himself from making that comment.

Chloe barely spared him and his words a second thought, apparently trying to wrap her head around all those things. “The universe _was_ created by God. Does that mean that all those myths from the Bible are facts?”

Lucifer couldn’t help but snort. “Only to a certain degree,” he pointed out. “They were inspired by actual events, that is, but writers took a lot of creative liberties—oh, perks of having free will—”

He barely finished that thought, when he spotted that something in her face changed. An emotion he wasn’t able to recognise filled her eyes, and it made him feel that unpleasant heaviness in his chest.

She titled her head, her gaze boring into him like a flaming sword. “That’s why you’re so fixated on it—it makes so much sense now,” she muttered, more to herself than him.

He looked away swiftly, unable to hold her intense gaze. Out of fear that their conversation would go back to what it really had been about before his—stupidly impulsive—reveal, he decided he had to make his exit as quickly as possible.

“I may be tempting people to act upon what they desire—,” he said matter-of-factly, a wry smile on his lips, “—but I would never force anyone to do anything. I’m not like _Him_.” Resentment sipping of his voice had to make much more sense for her now as well, as her brows furrowed. “Okay, enough life-wrecking revelations for you, Detective. I’d rather leave you to your own devices now,” he stated, flashing her his trademark smile, and intending to turn away, when she once again interrupted him.

“Lucifer—oh, it’s gonna take some getting used to,” she added under her breath; wasn’t the atmosphere so tense, he would probably crack up a bit. “I’m serious—I don’t want you to disappear on me again, not after—this.” She gestured from her to him, indicating the whole encounter, and Lucifer was a bit dumbfounded by it.

Why she even cared so much about it—right after finding out who she actually was speaking to—he couldn’t understand. It was simply nonsensical that standing in front of the Devil and fully aware of that, she nevertheless insisted on making him stay.

She must’ve noticed he was about to argue and folded her arms, determination setting on her face all over again. “Okay, we can do this your way. Why don’t we make a deal? If you stay, I will owe you a favour. And I will do anything you’d like me to. _Anything_ ,” she stressed, looking deadly serious.

Even his surprise by her earlier much-calmer-than-expected reaction couldn’t measure up to the astonishment he felt now. The way she said that last word aroused weird feelings within him and he couldn’t help but believe her absolutely. However, it did very little to make her reasons for such tenacity clear for him. “But why?”

She sighed defeatedly, as if she was explaining something both obvious and quite awkward to say out loud at the same time. “I’d rather have just a little bit of you in my life than have you disappear from it completely,” she admitted sincerely, looking down at her hands. Seeing her so flustered normally would result in a light-heartedly cutting remark, but he wouldn’t dare to say anything, her words having taken him by surprise. “Even if you are the literal Devil, which still sounds totally ridiculous.” She shook her head, snorting.

He didn’t pay much attention to the latter statement, his mind seemingly coming to a halt. Plethora of developments that had unravelled this evening was truly overwhelming, and such a confession… His heart seemed to skip a beat, before he even could call the realness of that statement into question. Not only had it sounded very sincere, but it also hadn’t implied that she was actually pushing for them to be together, she just wanted to be close to him. Which, for his Dad, might be more than well enough, he reminded himself sharply, shaking his head.

Unfortunately, Chloe must’ve misunderstood that gesture, taking it as a rejection of her offer. She looked away, blinking rapidly, disappointment clear on her face. It took her a few moments to start speaking and when she did, her voice was quiet, but steady. “I can’t force you to do anything. You’ll do what you want anyway. I just—I don’t—I don’t know what to think about that whole Devil thing yet, but—we’re working together. And you’re still the best partner that I’ve worked with, so I don’t want to lose it.”

There was something in her manner of speaking that was both reassuring and breaking his heart. As much as he desired to do well by her, he just couldn’t decline her what she wanted. Even if it meant that he would still bother her with his presence.

“I will stay, Detective,” he promised solemnly, his eyes not leaving her face, so that he easily caught how her features seemed to brighten up almost immediately at his words. “And, when it comes to your favour—I want you to take it slow,” he added cautiously, breaking their recently made eye contact. “All of it. I—You losing your mind would be a great inconvenience, and it’s certainly something we’d like to avoid.”

“And that’s it? That’s the favour for you?” She looked at him questioningly, clearly expecting a hidden agenda, not that such a suspicion surprised him.

“Yes,” he said sincerely, unable to stop himself from gazing back at her. “No other strings attached.”

She didn’t appear convinced at first, but then seemed to remind herself of the fact that he wasn’t the one to lie. “Okay, then.” She took a deep breath, leaning back against the counter.

An uncharacteristically awkward silence fell between them. Lucifer didn’t really know how to act to break it, suddenly remembering about the party that was organised at Lux, the one he was supposed to attend, even if it hardly mattered now.

Luckily for him, despite doing her best to supress it, Chloe yawned involuntarily. It was his cue to leave, as he realised how exhausting a day it had been for her. “I’d better go,” he stated hurriedly, taking his hands out of his pockets and straightening creases on his suit. “I should check on how that party I was supposed to be at is going.”

Chloe nodded, a weak smile playing in the corners of her lips. “Goodnight—Lucifer,” she said, still a bit hesitantly.

His smile didn’t do any better, the atmosphere between remaining tense. “Goodnight, Det—Chloe.”

“Have fun,” she added, before he could turn around. “See you tomorrow. I hope you’ll turn up, we have a case to wrap up.”

He looked at her, once again surprised by her statement. “Do you actually want me there?,” he asked, astonished.

Her expression remained honest when she replied. “Yes. Yes, I do. Like I’ve said, we’re partners.”

* * *

Chloe leaned back against the front door that had just shot behind Lucifer. She let out a deep breath, her mind in a total frenzy, to the point that she didn’t really know what to do with herself. She desperately needed someone to talk to—someone else other than him—but she had to stop herself from reaching for her phone.

As far as she knew, she was the only person who was aware that the so-called _Luciferness_ wasn’t just an artful schtick. Maybe except Maze, but that would mean that she’s an actual demon. So, she had been living with the demon and working with the Devil, which summed it all up pretty plainly.

Chloe groaned irritably, walking back into the kitchen to retrieve a wine bottle that she had stashed away for emergencies, such as this one, apparently. For a moment she pondered pulling out a glass, but soon decided that it was just a pointless waste of time.

All those conflicted feelings that were tugging at her heart were also driving her insane. Although she worried about Maze very much, a part of her was glad that her friend wasn’t actually here, it would only make things more awkward.

Unfortunately, it didn’t mean that her need for a sympathetic ear to lend had dissipated. In all honesty, she knew well enough not to run around, telling everyone about everything, not that Lucifer was very discreet himself. Besides, who would even believe her—she needed proof, physical evidence of his supernatural abilities. The proof that she might actually still be in possession of…

Without thinking twice, she took off upstairs, grabbing the wine bottle on her way. Having almost left all the lights on, she remembered herself enough to go back, quickly check on Trixie, who was still sleeping soundly, and put them off. A quiet voice of reason reminded her that she had to go to work the next morning and getting drunk on a workday wasn’t advisable, very unlike her, however, she deliberately ignored it.

* * *

Nothing disrupted both silence and darkness in the penthouse, with the city outside panoramic windows being a sole source of light. Lucifer couldn’t help but feel comforted by that stillness, reminding him of rare moments in Hell when he had some time for himself. In some way, during his exile, he had found a lot of peace in solitude, and being alone had quickly grown on him. Quite ironic, if you took into consideration that he once had been the life and the soul of the heavenly party.

He winced, reaching for the closest bottle of Scotch and a nearby glass. His level of sobriety was absolutely too high for his liking, especially if his thoughts were to keep wandering in that particular direction. Memories of Heaven were never ones he keenly recalled, too much withheld grudge not to see the God’s plain for a world full of hypocrisy and delusions that it truly was.

Lucifer shook his head, doing his best to stop that train of thought. After all, there was way more pressing matter at hand, one that needed a very careful consideration. The Detective had initially reacted better than Lucifer could’ve expected, it was still too early, though, to tell whether it was a good or a bad thing. In addition, he noticed with horror that he cared a bloody lot for what Chloe’s going to think about him after his revelation. With Linda, it all had been relatively easy—even if a thought of his therapist not wanting to see him ever again had in fact bothered him, he would’ve dealt with that loss eventually. With the Detective, however, it was a completely different story.

His fingers clenched around the already almost empty glass, as he made his way to the piano, the bottle in his other hand. The question why he even bothered with the glass at this point flashed through his mind, but it was quickly replaced with the reveal dilemma. He had really wanted to avoid it, especially now that the Detective seemed to have a shot at a more normal relationship, but his impulsive behaviour sometimes surprised even him.

What he needed to do now was talk it all through. He didn’t trust his reckless feelings and sticky consequences of him acting on them. Fortunately, he knew exactly whom to turn to, while he reached for the phone.

Despite a very late hour, calling Linda proved effective, as she picked up fairly quickly, even if her voice was a bit groggy. “Lucifer?,” she asked, a strain of genuine surprise in her voice. The Devil might’ve stormed into her office unannounced more than once, but he had never been the one to call her in the middle of the night, often being occupied with much more pleasant activities. “Did something happen?”

She must’ve thought that a call had been an emergency, and Lucifer scolded himself for making her think so. The fact that he didn’t require as much rest and often enjoyed many more pleasurable activities—thanks to which his sleep pattern was rather irregular—made him forget sometimes that humans actually needed a good portion of sleep every day to function. “Not much, really, but—could I come over tomorrow morning, Doctor? There is—a few things I’d like to discuss with you,” he explained calmly, absent-mindedly tapping piano keys.

It took her a moment to respond and she didn’t sound too convinced by his reassurance. “Of course. Is everything alright?”

Lucifer’s eyes fixated on a panorama of the City of Angels. He had always found that name rather amusing, but it had just hit him how ironic it essentially was—that Lord of Hell himself ended up in a place that reminded him of his old self, not as much, though, as those two irritating feathery things that were on his back again.

“Lucifer?” Linda’s worried voice brought him back to the present.

He looked down, at the bottom of his empty glass. A few seconds passed before he recalled her question. “It is,” he answered assuredly, a majority of his mind remaining somewhere else. “It’s just—I’ve finally moved forward.”

“Oh, you have?” He could easily imagine the Doctor’s amazed expression, as he toyed with the glass. “Well, you’ve piqued my curiosity, but I’m afraid our conversation will have to wait until tomorrow.” She yawned quietly.

Lucifer smiled softly. “Naturally, that’s exactly what I’ve had in mind,” he said light-heartedly, deep down glad that she didn’t question him any further.

Another yawn reached his ear, and he could hear rustling of sheets. “Goodnight, Lucifer,” the Doctor mumbled warmly.

His response was almost automatic. “Goodnight, Doctor,” he said, his voice slightly strangled.

Quiet beeping signalised that she’d already hung up, so he put the phone away from his ear and held it in his hand for a long time, just looking blankly at the black screen. Exchanging pleasantries was not much more than a plain courtesy, he reminded himself, and yet a part of him couldn’t help but wonder why they did it—why, despite knowing the truth about his nature, they acted as if they still cared. He was the Devil, the Prince of Darkness and the Lord of Hell, for Dad’s sake, why, instead of running away screaming, they stuck by him was something he doubted he would ever comprehend.


	3. Carry Me Down That Road In The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> However, a frightening sight before her made her hold her breath before any words could came out. It was far from what she had expected, as she looked straight into a pair of eyes that certainly wasn't his—flames dancing wildly inside of them, they bored into her with intensity that sent a chill down her spine.  
>   
> Those eyes, though, were hardly the most striking characteristic of a face before her—skin heavily scarred, it had a vividly red colour, resembling fresh blood. In seconds, her heart filled with fear much stronger and primal than anything she had ever felt. She tried to move away from the creature that hellish face belonged to, a scream caught in her throat with the air that couldn't leave her lungs. Unfortunately, with her body remaining annoyingly uncooperative, all her futile efforts had no apparent result.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not… the best. Or the longest, for that matter.  
>   
> It's here, though, but not without some difficulties, as a part of this chapter (a quite important part, that I was actually really proud of) vanished into thin air thanks to the not-so-great working of Word and I was forced to write it all over again. And that was the literal Hell.  
>   
> I don't know - it might be actually better than the previous version - but it cost me a lot of nerves. So, getting to finish that chapter is even more of a victory for me.  
>   
> I'm not too pleased with it, but I hope it's good enough.  
>   
> This one focuses more on Chloe, the next one will be more about Lucifer (and probably significantly longer).  
>   
> Anyway, enjoy!  
> 

All her limbs felt heavy, impossibly so. She had no idea what she was doing here and where that 'here' even was. Her head was pounding, which hardly helped with assessing her situation, and neither did heavy eye lids she was unable to lift.

A sense of panic slowly raised in her chest, while she was desperately trying to listen to what was happening around her. Unfortunately, all she heard was silence. She couldn't even register her heart pounding or a rustle of her shallow breaths.

For a few terrifyingly long moments she just waited, trapped in that horrifying silent darkness, unsure of what's to come. So overwhelming was a sense of dread piercing through her limp body, that she almost missed it.

_“Wakey, wakey, Detective.”_

Although the voice sounded like it was coming from afar—as if she was underwater and someone was calling her from above the surface—she could recognise it anywhere. Only one person she had ever known spoke with such delightfully British accent, after all. Upon the realisation that _he_ was here, with her, her fear dissipated in an instant, replaced with a sense of security that only his presence could elicit.

Despite her desperate attempts to answer his calling, she was still trapped in the unbearably unmoving body. Waiting for what seemed like hours, utter helplessness she felt slowly wearing her down, she tried to move any and every muscle in her body, with no success. Her uneasiness grew again, as the thought that something bad had happened after all resurfaced in her mind, while she couldn't even recall if they were working on a case or not, though the first was far more likely.

Eventually, though, sensation began to return, bit by bit, to her fingers and toes, their tips tingling, and it gradually spread up her arms and legs. Her muscles were unpleasantly stiff and her limbs still felt like each of them weighted a tone, but at least she could sense what was around her, which was a load off her mind.

After she finally successfully cracked her eyes open, the impossible brightness almost blinded her at first, but—as her eyes adjusted at last to the light—she began to recognise colours and shapes of everything around her. Her lips parted slightly, when she dazedly took in her surroundings, searching for her partner's handsome face, an acknowledgement of his words almost falling out of her lips.

However, a frightening sight before her made her hold her breath before any words could came out. It was far from what she had expected, as she looked straight into a pair of eyes that certainly wasn't his—flames dancing wildly inside of them, they bored into her with intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

Those eyes, though, were hardly the most striking characteristic of a face before her—skin heavily scarred, it had a vividly red colour, resembling fresh blood. In seconds, her heart filled with fear much stronger and primal than anything she had ever felt. She tried to move away from the creature that hellish face belonged to, a scream caught in her throat with the air that couldn't leave her lungs. Unfortunately, with her body remaining annoyingly uncooperative, all her futile efforts had no apparent result.

Quite the contrary, actually, as the face had only gotten closer to her, fire in those eyes intensifying ominously. “Detective?” It was still _his_ voice, though, as melodic as ever, its gentleness a stark contrast to the nightmarish face that seemed to speak those words.

She heard something in the tone of that voice—an emotion that Chloe would never suspect such a monstrosity was capable of genuinely experiencing—and it stroke her that there was more to the creature than the devilish face. She knew seeing it triggered in her a subconscious reaction, born out of a need for self-preservation. However, having heard the all-to-familiar moniker and an immense worry behind it, she couldn't help but see traces of humanity in that monster.

Fighting off the instinctual fear of him, she studied the face carefully, noticing more and more familiar features. Even in his eyes—behind all those raging flames—there was a mischievous sparkle she had grown so fond of, although it, more often than not, foreshadowed something recklessly stupid.

She let out a long breath, the conclusion clear, but terribly puzzling. It had to be him, there was no other explanation for the face before her resembling him so much, as well as his voice escaping the monster's lips. It raised the question, however, what had happened to him—how it was possible that his once good-looking features had turned into _this_.

Her continuous silence and stillness visibly troubled him. He gently moved a few strands of her hair from her face, his brows furrowing. “Chloe?” So soft was his voice, so full of concern, that it took her breath away. It made no sense how a man with a face of such a monster could be so… caring and delicate. A light touch of his fingers on her cheek didn't match roughness of the hellishly red skin.

She knew she had to say something, to reassure him that she was okay, but her body still wasn't willing to fully cooperate with her. “Lucifer—,” she tried weakly, her voice barely a whisper, and she could see relief washing over his devilishly-looking face.

At that moment it stroke her why her mind kept associating the face before her with the Devil. It was really him— _the Devil_ —in the flesh.

“Everything's going to be alright, darling,” he muttered soothingly, dropping a butterfly kiss on her forehead.

She was laying _in the Devil's arms_.

And she had never felt safer.

* * *

Chloe jolted awake at the screeching sound of her alarm clock, almost jumping out of her bed. That was quite a strange dream, leaving her both with an unpleasant uneasiness of a nightmare and a comforting sense of being cared for, which made no actual sense. Moreover, the realisation she had come to was ridiculous—there was no way he could be the Devil, even if she remembered seeing first his wings—a pair of _freaking angelic wings_ —and then that nightmarish face in her sleep.

She hoped against hope that all of it was just another stupid dream. However, a quick glance around her bedroom confirmed her greatest fear—there was a wine bottle on the nightstand, filled with just a quarter of its initial content, which perfectly explained throbbing in her head; a computer was lying beside her and she immediately recalled sifting through old videos and photos in a desperate search for signs of Lucifer's divine nature. Unsurprisingly, she had found a lot of them, many of which had raised her doubts even back then, but it was just too crazy a solution—too unreal—to be the truth, or so she had tried to convince herself of.

Closing her eyes, she fell back on the mattress. If only she could just sink in it, forgetting that the world around her even existed—forgetting about all those angels, demons, other planes of existence… It was all too dreamlike, and yet too painfully real. Wasn't it her workday, she would just bury herself deeper beneath the covers, trying to pretend that none of it had happened.

Oh, she could really use a personal day today, but there was a very slight chance Marcus would be cooperating in that matter— _Marcus_. No, he certainly wouldn't, not the day after that dinner and her very unclear response to his proposition of the next date. Which—at this point—Chloe wasn't even sure would happen, since she had spent her yesterday's evening speaking with the certain Devil, then the whole night analysing that conversation and its results thoroughly, not even sparing a thought on a guy she was theoretically dating—it was hardly a promising sign.

She forcefully tossed the covers away, sitting up. As if yesterday's evening hadn't resulted in quite big and ground-breaking developments between her and Lucifer, she had yet to deal with that whole she-had-apparently-started-dating-Marcus thing. She shouldn't have agreed on going with him to that concert in the first place—if it had been Lucifer, it wouldn't be a big deal at all.

Chloe buried her face in her hands, rubbing the skin energetically in hopes of regaining her composure. There was no time to feel sorry for herself and her continuous confusion, she had to get her act together and prepare to go to the precinct as though it was just any other day. In order to do so, she needed a quick refresh and thus took off her t-shirt and shorts on her way to the bathroom.

A long hot shower proved to be calming enough, so that she was able to brace herself and start getting ready to work, even if she knew nothing would ever be the same. She was torn—it'd be very nice to wake up just like yesterday, sweetly oblivious to everything, and go on with her day as usual, believing Lucifer's antics were just a silly quirk; on the other hand, though, maybe her awareness of the truth would finally change something between them. Exactly, just as if dating the actual Devil didn't sound ridiculous in and of itself, and yet she couldn’t help herself but feel an oddly irrational excitement at the thought.

She groaned irritably, frustrated both at him and herself. His revelation seemed to make all the difference in the world, and yet not make any. It crossed her mind that her emotional confusion might stem from her rational human brain not being able to actually grasp that idea when who she saw was just Lucifer, a cocky and arrogant club owner from L.A, not an older-than-world divine being.

* * *

Quiet scratching of a pencil resounded in the kitchen and Trixie found the calmness in the room a bit unsettling, still not used to Maze not being around. Normally, if it had taken her Mom longer than usual to get ready, she’d at least had her demon friend to keep her company.

The girl sighed softly, looking down at her unfinished sketch. She was proud of how Lucifer’s wings looked—though it was beyond compare to the incredible sight from yesterday—but now her thoughts drifted away from the drawing. Although Maze’s words really hurt her, she still worried about her friend very much, wondering what she might be up to now.

Trixie missed her terribly, and she could tell that so did her Mom. If only there was a way to contact the demon somehow… Not that Maze would be really willing to talk. The girl frowned, deciding that she had to do something about it, even if now it seemed impossible.

Steps, echoing down the stairs, brought her attention back to the kitchen, with her Mom walking into it briskly soon after. “Hi, monkey,” she greeted her with a broad smile, though Trixie could see dark circles under her eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday, but we caught the bad guy,” she explained, rushing to the counter and starting preparing breakfast for both of them. “I hope you had fun with Olga.”

“It was okay,” Trixie said hesitantly, her eyes glued on her sketch. _But with Maze it would’ve been much better_.

“Great.” It was clear that her Mom’s thoughts were somewhere else and for a moment Trixie really wanted to ask about yesterday’s evening, but soon she realised that it would betray that she had actually woken up.

Trixie put away the pencil and the piece of paper she was drawing on, seeing that toasts popped out of the toaster. She quickly found a plate being put before her and her Mom sat on a stool next to her, a cup of coffee in her hands. “What are you drawing?,” she asked curiously, glancing at a sketch.

As soon as her eyes landed on Lucifer’s silhouette and an outline of his pretty wings, something on her Mom’s face shifted and her shoulders tensed. Trixie could easily see her glance suddenly growing stern, when the woman looked back at her. Clearly, she was about to scold the girl, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath instead, before any reprimand came out of her lips.

“Trixie, is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Her voice was calm, but she gave the girl a serious Mom look, so that denying anything made very little sense.

Trixie looked down guiltily, a shy apologetical smile touching her lips. “I—I heard you and Lucifer talking last night,” she admitted timidly. “And I was afraid it was just like before, with Daddy and Maze, and I had to see what was going on—”

Before she could even finish, sternness vanished from her Mom’s face, replaced with a tender expression. “Oh, Trixie—” Her voice was gentle this time, with guilt painted all over her features. “No, don’t worry, it was just—sometimes adults argue, so they could be on good terms again,” her Mom explained, clearly trying to find the right words. “It’s—weird, but it works.”

Trixie nodded slowly, looking down at her untouched toast. “So, you and Lucifer—”

Her Mom gave her a reassuring smile, rubbing the girl’s arm gently. “We’re okay, monkey,” she said comfortingly. She then took a sip of her coffee, glancing back at the picture. “Now, did you see them?,” she asked plainly, pointing at the drawn wings.

The girl couldn’t contain a wide smile, spreading on her lips. “Yes. They were beautiful, weren’t they?,” she said excitedly.

Her Mom snorted, looking down as if she tried to hide her expression from Trixie. “Yes, I guess they were,” she admitted bashfully. “But you still need to eat your breakfast, young lady,” her Mom added quickly, reaching for her own toast.

* * *

Chloe breezed into the precinct, feeling much better in familiar surroundings. It turned out that going to work was a good thing after all—resuming her daily routine, she could focus on things she understood and had control over and it helped her to calm down a bit, leaving Lucifer’s reveal and its implications to deal with later.

Having pushed the matter of her partner’s real identity out of her mind for the time being, she approached her desk, wanting nothing more than to dive into the paperwork—as boring as it was. However, one glance in the direction of the Lieutenant’s office and she was immediately reminded of another problem she had yet to solve.

Luckily for her, no one was inside, which meant that he either had something to take care of or wasn’t here at all. She rolled her eyes at a rather immature wish that it was the latter, in spite of its very low likelihood. Either way, knowing about his whereabouts would help her with coming up with a solution to this whole mess, so she took it upon herself to investigate.

She strolled over to her ex-husband’s desk, putting hands in her pockets. “Hi, Dan,” she said lightly as the man in question raised his head from above the documents he was currently going through. “Do you have something for me from yesterday?,” she asked casually, looking around in what she hoped wasn’t a particularly nervous manner.

Dan’s eyes crinkled, when he studied Chloe’s expression. “Hi, everything’s already on your desk,” he informed her warily, apparently noticing her slightly strange behaviour.

Chloe nodded absentmindedly. “Oh, okay, good.” She took one more look around, checking the perimeter for her would-be boyfriend. “Is M—Lieutenant—here already?”

Dan clearly sensed her nervousness, but made no comment about it. “He was here when I came in, but I haven’t seen him in a while,” he informed, concern more and more visible on his face. “Is everything alright, Chlo?”

She looked at him for a moment, actually registering his question only after a few moments. “Yeah, it’s—great.” She hated how distracted she sounded and how he could easily spot changes in her behaviour; on such occasions she really wished Dan hadn’t known her as well as he did.

It was high time to retreat back to her desk, before any more investigative questions would follow. “I’d better go and start doing that boring paperwork,” she excused herself, gesturing towards her workspace, and fled the scene soon after.

Chloe could feel Dan’s curious gaze boring into her back, while she was walking to the desk. She was painfully aware that if he had noticed that something was off about her, so would Ella and maybe someone else. What’s worse, she had very little plausible explanation to offer to them and it bothered her more than she had anticipated.

* * *

Ella hummed softly, sifting through photos she was about to put into the folder for Chloe. Everything seemed to be properly prepared to place in the case files, so she collected the pictures and the test results, ready to give all of it to the detective.

However, before she could step out of the lab, Dan wandered inside, a thin file in his hand. “Do you have what I asked you for?,” he asked expectantly, but not unkindly, looking around the room.

“Sure, the results are over there.” Ella motioned at her desk swiftly, almost walking out of the lab, before Dan’s voice stopped her.

“Hey, do you know what’s up with Chloe?,” he asked curiously, clearly hoping she knew something he didn’t. “She acts a bit strange—,” he added, seemingly noticing Ella’s inquisitive look.

She looked over at the detective’s desk, tilting her head. Chloe seemed quite distracted, puffing irritably, with papers scattered all over her desk. Ella hadn’t caught it before, too immersed in her own work, but now it was impossible to miss. “Dunno,” she admitted, watching as her friend sorted through another pile of documents. “I haven’t talked to her yet. But I’m about to.” She raised the folder she had in her hand and smiled knowingly. “Let’s see what’s happening,” she muttered determinedly, going out of the lab, with Dan close behind.

It took her a few strides to reach the detective’s desk. Dan had stayed behind, resuming his work, so that it would be a conversation just between her and Chloe. “Here’s the documentation concerning evidence we collected,” Ella informed with a smile, putting the folder on a yet unsorted pile.

Chloe just nodded in acknowledgement, not even looking up at her. There must’ve been a lot going on in the detective’s head right now, Ella could easily tell, but she didn’t know what the reason for it was. Asking about it directly seemed like a good idea. “You’re alright? You seem to be somewhere else—”

Before Ella could even finish, Chloe glanced at her, a bit startled, and shook her head rapidly. “Oh, no, no, I’m fine. Just—I came home late yesterday and—didn’t sleep too well, but it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Her weak smile didn’t feel too genuine, though, and Ella knew that there was something her friend wasn’t telling her.

Despite Chloe’s explanation sounding plausible, the forensic scientist’s Spidey sense tickled. She might’ve been so tired, because… “Is it because of you-know-who?,” Ella asked in a low voice, her brows wiggling.

Chloe seemed a bit taken aback by that question, and a few seconds passed before she answered. _Guilty_. “No, not really.” The detective shook her head again, looking away. _Even more guilty_. “Not Marcus, anyway,” she added under her breath, and Ella couldn’t help but look back at the other woman.  
She was slightly flustered, her fingers curling around a bullet on her neck. _Of course_. Ella had heard whom it was from and about a joke behind it (she wished she could’ve seen Lucifer’s amusement with her own eyes), so that everything fell into place in an instant.

“‘Not Marcus’?,” Ella echoed, giving her friend a knowing look.

Chloe sighed, clearly not enjoying this conversation as much as the woman before her. “Yesterday was a long day and I really want to wrap everything up quickly and forget about it,” she said sternly, returning to the files on her desk.

“Sure.” A sly smile played on Ella’s lips before she looked around, her search for a tall British club owner proving ineffective. “So—where’s your partner?,” she asked innocently. “As disregarding as Lucifer is of fixed hours, it’s not like him to be this late,” Ella observed, her focus back on Chloe as she thoroughly studied her friend’s expression.

The detective’s jaw clenched and she shot a quick glance at her phone to check for any messages. “He’ll be here, soon,” she declared, but there was a strain of uncertainty in her voice. “Hopefully,” Chloe muttered, taking a deep breath.

Ella couldn’t stop her curiosity from growing. “Did something else happen yesterday?” She leaned over the detective’s desk, her voice hushed and conspirational.

Although Chloe gave her a disapproving look, there was some unease in her eyes. Ella instantly knew she had hit home. “Okay, I won’t push,” she said, stepping away. “But if there’s something you’d like to talk about, you know where to find me.”

* * *

Chloe bit her lip. Ella was right—even taking his usual tardiness into account, he should’ve already been here, especially since it could be fall within the scope of their deal. Besides, Lucifer had rarely missed an opportunity to spend some time with her.

A strange sense of uneasiness started to grow in the pit of her stomach. What if he had broken the deal? Yes, it was unheard of Lucifer Morningstar backing down on a bargain, which now made a perfect sense, but there was first time for everything.

She reached blindly for her phone, feeling that she had to do something. _‘Remember about our deal?,’_ was all she sent, not wanting to seem too nervous or too concerned. What they stood on was more unclear now than ever, so she decided to play it cool. On top of it, she was quite unsure herself how she felt about all of it.

She was putting her phone away, when it pinged, signalling a new message. Such a quick answer surprised her and she had hard time determining if it was a good or a bad sign. She cleared her throat, more anxious than she had ever been, before unlocking the screen to check his replay.

 _‘On my way.’_ Chloe let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. It was quite vague, but at least it meant he was coming here, or so she tried to convinced herself of.

Then, it hit her that there was something off about that message. No emojis, no barely understandable abbreviations. Before yesterday, she would be pleased with him texting her in a more civilised manner, now, however… A sense of heaviness set in her chest, while she looked at those three words. She had to remind herself for umpteenth time this morning that he’d basically promised her to stay in L.A., which also applied to not pulling any stunts like that jaunt to Las Vegas.

As comforting as she hoped that thought would be, she still couldn’t stop seeing his startled dark eyes. He resembled a kid caught red-handed, ready to fly from responsibility for their actions. She snorted, coming up with this comparison. No wonder why Trixie took such an immediate liking to him, since they had more in common than one might’ve thought.

This, however, hardly mattered right now. She took a deep breath, putting her phone away, her attention back to the papers. The sooner she would be done with them, the sooner she would be able to solve some of the nagging issues, one of which just passed her desk. She cleared her throat nervously, realising that Marcus was back in his office. She knew that a very difficult conversation lay ahead of her, but she decided to put it off for now, her mind still too occupied with Lucifer and his thing.


	4. What Can You Tell Me Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here!  
>   
> And, slowly but surely, we're getting closer to the actual plot, still dealing with the aftermath of Lucifer's reveal.  
>   
> The name of the Broken Hearts Killer's copycat, according to the IMDB, is Joel. The last name that I chose — Andrews — is in honour of the actor who plays him, Andrew Leeds.  
>   
> Enjoy!  
> 

The first rays of sunlight illuminated the skyline of Los Angeles, making it look like bright flames were slowly swallowing the darkness of the night. Lucifer didn’t get to see sunrise too often, not bothering to acknowledge something so trivial, when his mind and body were occupied with far more pleasant things. All the more he was bewildered how effective simply watching the rising daily star would be with calming his raging heart.

Taking a huge sip of his scotch, he slid open the balcony door, a blow of fresh air hitting his half-naked body. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, as his bare feet came into contact with a cold tiled floor of the balcony. Although his eyelids felt heavy, his heart was even heavier, his mind buzzing with endless thoughts of what had just transpired between him and the Detective, and it didn’t let him get a wink of sleep.

Having tossed and turned restlessly, tangled in his sheets, he had quickly given up trying to fall asleep. There was too much to think through and he couldn’t help himself but wander around the penthouse, hoping that an energetic stroll through the rooms would help him with appeasing an emotional turmoil that took over his mind at the moment.

Lost in a mess of his thoughts, he didn’t even notice when his wings unfurled, which only made him more agitated. The pesky things followed him everywhere like a shadow—a reminder of who his father wanted to make him—and he could hardly believe that there had once been a time when he had been puffed up with pride because of their magnificence. The divine beauty of them only infuriated him these days, though, making losing his face—the one thing he had gotten to earn on his own—even more difficult to bear.

Now, however, with beams of rising sun caressing snow-white feathers and a light breeze dancing around each of them, he felt oddly at ease. Although a bit panicked thought that someone might witness this daring angelic display flashed through his mind, it was quickly silenced by the realisation that the only person whose reaction he cared about most had already seen it.

As much as he had dreaded that moment, a significant weight had been pulled off from his chest when he had finally given her proof that she needed to believe him. Such an action was very unwise of him, its consequences difficult to predict. Moreover, the thought of losing her for good—even if it would lead to the Detective enjoying her life just like she should—filled him with trepidation nonetheless. Despite doubts whether it had been a good idea after all still tucking at his heart, he chose to deliberately ignore them, reeling from Chloe’s incomprehensibly positive reaction. He was truly torn, never having faced a situation like that—never having cared so much about somebody else.

She had occupied even more of his thoughts lately, to the point that he wasn’t in the mood for partying, sex, drugs, or even doing favours—he didn’t indulge as enthusiastically as normally in either of his usual activities. It all had started concurrently with that whole Cain fiasco, at the same time as the realisation that he had been too damn successful in pushing Chloe away for his own good. However, his certainty that it had been it—that his relationship with the Detective was doomed to change, so that he wouldn’t be such an important part of her life anymore—wavered right now, Chloe’s angry confession of her feelings for him playing on repeat in his mind. Even if he didn’t let himself believe in a realness of her words, a small flame of hope had ignited deep in his heart on its own accord, growing only stronger when she had asked him to stay.

Lucifer snorted softly, shaking his head in disbelief. His fussing over the issue of his emotional confusion made him only overly poetic, his persistent contemplation lacking any significant results. He downed his nearly forgotten drink quickly, hiding his wings with a disappointed shake of his head.

The sun was already hovering over the tallest buildings in the city, indicating that his rumination had lasted longer than it appeared. It only meant that it was high time for him to get ready for his morning appointment with Linda. Casting the last quick glance at the breath-taking view before him, he slowly stepped back into the penthouse, putting his glass down at the coffee table, his mind occupied for a change with choosing a proper outfit for the day. He also made a mental note that grabbing coffee on his way to the Doctor’s office would do wonders for his fatigue.

* * *

Lucifer seemed at ease, sprawled snugly on Linda’s couch. In all honesty, she had expected that he would show up in a much worse state, dishevelled or worn out, if his slightly wavering raw voice during yesterday’s conversation was any indication. However, him strolling vigorously into her office, offering her gingerly a cup of coffee, had exceeded all her expectations.

She was still watching him with interest, listening closely to his recounting of yesterday’s confrontation with Chloe. Fearing that it had been a serious emergency, her curiosity had only grown when he had started telling her about his evening that had apparently centred around an argument with the Detective.

“She demanded to know why I—went to Vegas back then and she couldn’t understand when I explained that I couldn’t tell her,” he narrated coolly, interlacing his fingers on his lap. “Then, I got pretty annoyed—she can be bloody persistent sometimes—and I—I might have slipped out that I love her,” Lucifer admitted reluctantly and Linda could tell he was irritated by his own actions. “The Detective, obviously, shared the sentiment,” he added bitterly, with a short glance at the ceiling.

Linda had to admit that it was rather close to the end of the list of things she had expected to hear this morning. His late-night call had made her think that something really bad had happened and she could hardly call _this_ bad.

“So, you basically confessed your love to each other?,” she said plainly in what was more of a statement than a question.

Lucifer nodded slowly. “In a way, yes,” he confirmed, but without even a trace of excitement or joy in his expression. “Although it didn’t look like I’d been expecting.”

Linda tilted he head, her curiosity begging her to ask for more details. “Was it your first such a confrontation?”

He looked to the side, his mind clearly trying to find any corresponding memories. “I believe so,” he said carefully after a few moments, a frown setting over his face.  
Linda nodded to herself. “What was her reaction?,” she asked, her eyes sweeping through his expression in search for any clues as to what had happened and what impact it had on Lucifer.

“She got pretty furious when I told her it hardly mattered,” he confessed grudgingly, a small grimace betraying how much it actually bothered him.  
“‘Hardly mattered’?,” Linda echoed quizzically, raising a single brow.

Lucifer sighed heavily, his eyes locked at the ceiling for a moment. “Oh, you know about the nature of the Detective’s origin, Doctor,” he said a bit impatiently, as if she was forgetting a very important detail. “And it is exactly why whatever feelings I may have for her are irrelevant,” he explained, looking at her seriously, his expression sour.

Linda shook her head firmly. “No feelings are ever irrelevant, Lucifer,” she pointed out calmly, earning an eye roll from him.

Apparently, he was about to say something, probably completely disregarding her statement, his lips already parted, when a quiet ping stopped him short. He reached to his pocket for a phone and Linda instantly spotted a wince appearing on his face as soon as he glanced at the screen. Lifting the device closer to his eyes, he swiftly unlocked it and tapped the screen a few times, before putting the phone back in his pocket.

“Was it—?” Linda didn’t get the chance to finish her question, though, as he quickly went on to answer her, as though he wasn’t too keen on talking about a message he had just received.

“Yes.” Having neatened his suit nimbly, he looked back at her, his lips pursed. “The Detective probably wonders where the hell I am.”

Linda stared at him, taken aback by that declaration. “Oh, she still wants to see you, then,” she said incredulously, a small smile growing on her lips.  
“To wrap up our recent case,” Lucifer clarified promptly.

“So, she’s no longer angry at you?,” Linda asked further, bewildered at the way that whole situation was unravelling.

“That I do not know, quite frankly,” he admitted, a nervous chuckle escaping his throat. “But, the truth is my—,” he gulped, as if words he was about to say filled him with dread, “—love confession wasn’t actually—the highlight of the evening,” he revealed cautiously, seemingly careful to use the right words.

Which only piqued Linda’s curiosity even more. “Do tell.”

“I—She demanded answers so stubbornly that I couldn’t stop myself from showing her them.” He glared over his shoulder with reluctance, a disdain palpable in his expression.

Linda slowly blinked, processing implications of his words. “You did it?,” she asked quietly, astonished. “And how did she react to that?”

“Better than I’d assumed.” He snorted, a sour smile on his lips. “Honestly, I was counting on her to throw me out, saying that she didn’t want to see me ever again,” he said with evident disappointment.

Linda furrowed her eyebrows. “Why?” She tilted her head, folding her arms.

“Oh, I thought it would be a splendid opportunity to make a clean cut,” Lucifer explained pointedly, throwing his arms into the air, as if he was talking to a clueless child. “If she didn’t want to know me anymore, I wouldn’t even have a reason to come back.”

Linda was silent for a moment, thoroughly processing the meaning of his words. There was a few aspects of that statement that worried her, but working through it had to wait. “Okay, that’s something we’ll have to address later,” she decided, adjusting her glasses swiftly. “I’ve meant to ask you why you assumed she would throw you out?”

He gave her an incredulous look, as if she missed something clearly obvious. “Because I am the Devil, of course.” His supposedly calm voice had an audible strain of bitterness that Linda couldn’t ignore. “No human in their right mind would like to have the Lord of Hell in their home.”

Linda had to agree with that conclusion, but such reasoning didn’t seem do apply in that situation. “You have a point, but she didn’t do it. And I can tell it perplexes you,” she observed, giving him a pointed look.

Lucifer pursed his lips, once again looking away. “Perhaps. I—I doubt that would be her real reaction to all of this,” he admitted hesitantly, his doubts as clear as day.

The therapist took a deep breath, realising that all of his concerns came down to his conviction that Chloe was nothing more than a pawn in his Father’s enigmatic plan. “How do you know it’s not?,” she asked.

“It’s obviously Dad’s doing,” Lucifer groaned tiredly. “He is trying to assure His plan succeeds and it involves influencing Chloe’s behaviour, so that she would want to stick by my side no matter what,” he complained, clearly frustrated by such a perspective.

“Or, she needs some time to come to terms with that information and she doesn’t want to lose her partner in the process, hence she’s acting as if it wasn’t anything so ground-breaking,” Linda offered instead, with a light smile, hoping that this time she might actually get to him at least a little. “And still treating you just like the man she knows—her partner she’s been working with for quite some time now—not the actual Devil—may be helping her to cope with this,” she elaborated steadily, watching as Lucifer slightly frowned. “And she may actually want to stick by you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Doctor,” he said bitterly, his voice quiet, yet firm.

“If a mental breakdown is what you’re expecting, it might happen, actually at any point now,” Linda added with a sigh. Sometimes his pessimism started to really irritate her. “People process such revelations differently, so I’m not capable of telling how she will behave,” she said explicatively.

Then, she almost missed a twinkle in Lucifer’s eyes, indicating he had, all over again, just come up with a ‘brilliant’ solution, having twisted her words to his own liking. “And what if I sent her to you?,” he asked, a smile slowly raising in the corners of his lips, his eyes dark and focused on her face.

Although Linda at first wanted to roll her eyes at his obvious deflection, his proposition didn’t in fact sound that absurd. “Well, actually, it’s not a terrible idea,” she admitted unwillingly, biting her lip.

He grinned smugly and she knew that she wouldn’t see any of his vulnerable side anymore today. “Lovely. I’ll do just that, then.” He stood up, fixing his suit in one swift motion. “Thank you very much, Doctor. It was pleasure to talk to you, just like always.” He nodded, his signature smile plastered over his face, even if Linda could spot a shadow of entirely different—much more sombre—emotion in his eyes.

She followed him suit, raising from her chair. “Lucifer, wait, we have to—,” she tried, but her attempt to stop him—just like usual—turned out to be fruitless.  
Having already turned towards the door, he just waved his hand, glancing at her over his shoulder. “I need to rush. ‘Bye, ‘bye, Linda.”

Before Linda could even blink, he was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him. A heavy sigh left her lips, as she went back to her desk. It was one of those moments when she was wondering if she was capable of actually helping him, since every time she thought they were about to make a breakthrough, with him realising something important about himself, Linda met a very strong resistance that clearly frustrated not only her, but also the Devil himself. Well, at least she had plenty of things to talk about during the next session.

* * *

Usually, stepping into the precinct was significantly raising his spirits, a perspective of another day of solving crimes with the Detective positively thrilling. Sometimes, even at days like this one—filled with sifting through paperwork—he would turn up with a grin anyway, ready to earn one more of those reluctant, but warm smiles from her at his antics that she must’ve found irritatingly amusing. Despite the occasional family business or his own interests he had to deal with, working with her brought a sense of normalcy into the divinity of his life and he couldn’t help but cherish every moment of it.

That was before his great reveal, though, and he was wondering how much things would change from now on. A prospect of losing all of it—her and people that were close to her—filled him with dread, but at the same time he doubted he would ever deserve any of this. The Devil didn’t care about anybody else but himself, after all.

His fingers curled tighter around a paper cup he was holding, as he slowly descended down the stairs, every step careful and a bit hesitant. He couldn’t believe himself and his childish anxiety—he was eons old, for Dad’s sake, he shouldn’t feel like a sweating teenager about to talk to his crush for the first time. He rolled his eyes at how fitting that metaphor seemed, even though it was utterly ridiculous.

Lucifer paused at the bottom of the stairs, the Detective’s desk and its owner right in front of him. Luckily for him, she didn’t spot him at first, fully immersed in documents before her. Something clearly must have piqued her interest, as she was studying them closely, leaning on one of her hands with a frown.

For a moment, he pondered whether coming here wasn’t a mistake. The fact that yesterday she had wanted him here didn’t mean that after a night of thinking and sleep she wouldn’t change her mind, having realised what his reveal really meant. It was the last moment to retreat, if he wanted to pretend that he had never even been here, as silly as it was.

Lucifer took a deep breath, scolding himself mentally for considering giving up. There still was a slight chance that she did want him in her life, even if it was happening in accordance with Dad’s dubious plan, and he couldn’t refrain from approaching Chloe’s desk, though his step had lost all of his former spring.

It turned out that standing next to the desk and hovering above her silently wasn’t enough to get her attention, so he cleared his throat, ready to greet her with his trademark grin, when her head shot up quickly, as if he had actually startled her.

Lucifer frowned at her sudden reaction. However, before he could ask her about anything, she stood up quickly, sparing a brief glance at the Lieutenant’s office. _Obviously_. “You’re finally here,” she observed bluntly, walking around the desk. “Great, I was about to question my would-be murderer and I could use your—mojo,” she threw in his direction, not stopping next to him even for a second and going straight to the interrogation room instead.

Lucifer blinked, dumbfounded. In his surprise, he completely forgot about keeping up a smug look, concern written all over his face. “Detective, are you—?”  
She didn’t let him finish, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m fine,” she said, albeit her voice lacked some of its usual conviction. “Just—a little bit on edge here, but there’s nothing that will help me now better than work,” she explained hastily.

It was positively puzzling how she acted as if no development had been made just a day before—as if they were investigating the case just like they always did. Despite that, as collected as she seemed, her perceptiveness was seemingly somewhat diminished, as she didn’t even acknowledge the cup of coffee he was holding.

Lucifer rushed after her, barely catching up with her fast pace, and grabbed her arm lightly, forcing her to stop. Turning around to face him, she gave him an annoyed look. Only then did she see what he was trying to hand her.

Chloe looked down sheepishly, taking the cup from him, evidently upset at herself with how rushed she was. “Thanks, Lucifer,” she muttered, a grateful smile touching her lips.

He gave her a warm look in response, almost as surprised by this little gesture of kindness as she was. It only seemed right, though, to show her that he did care, even despite his previous attempts to push her away.

The Detective took a sip of a hot beverage, turning back to the door, while Lucifer realised that there was no need for eliciting a confession from the killer. “I caught him swinging a hammer, intending to use it on—you, Detective,” he said as she was about to enter the interrogation room. He still could see that scene playing out in his mind—if he had come there just a second later… A shiver ran down his spine at that thought. “I believe it’s proof enough of his guilt,” he added matter-of-factly, hoping that he wouldn’t have to see the man’s face ever again—he might not be able to stop himself from hitting him across the face again.

Chloe turned around to look at him, a determination clear in her eyes. “It is, I just want to hear his motive with my own ears,” she said firmly, grabbing a door handle. However, before she pulled it, she froze, as though she just realised something. “Wait, you were first who found us, weren’t you?,” she asked, looking past her shoulder.

Their eyes met and there was something weirdly intense in her gaze that made Lucifer slightly uncomfortable; he felt like she could peer into his very soul. He cleared his throat, before admitting: “Why, yes, obviously.” Lucifer looked away, loathing a feeling of vulnerability that her scrutiny evoked in him. “I mean, Detective Dou—Daniel was more occupied with calling backup, I believe.” He shrugged, not wanting to sound too overbearing.

Chloe hmphed, nodding to herself. Why she cared so much about it, he couldn’t understand, but asking about it right now didn’t seem convenient, since she had already opened the door, about to step inside, and he quickly followed her.

The man they had caught yesterday was sitting motionless behind a table, his eyes boring into a wall across from him. His stillness was a bit strange, though as soon as he noticed he had company, he straightened up, a curious look on his face.

Lucifer couldn’t help himself but smile at the man viciously, pouring as much disdain in his voice as possible. “I believe we’ve already met, so let’s skip pleasantries, shall we—?”

Chloe gave him a stern look, stopping him short. “We’re doing it by the book,” she said firmly, so that it was clear that arguing with her would be futile. “Detective Decker.” She motioned at herself swiftly, sitting down at one of the chairs while Lucifer chose the other. “And this is my partner, Lucifer Morningstar.” He smiled sourly to the man, pouring all of his resentment into that little gesture. “We’d like to ask you a few additional questions, Mr Andrews.”

The man in question raised his eyebrows, apparently astounded by his own presence in the interrogation room. “Oh, I explained everything to your partner,” he said coolly, stressing the last word meaningfully, his tone not betraying any sign of potential nervousness.

Lucifer snorted, recalling the man’s pathetic speech and his naïve argumentation when he had tried to convince the Devil about righteousness of his actions. “That you did, but Detective here would like to hear it with her own ears, since thanks to you she was unconscious at the time,” Lucifer pointed out bitterly.

Chloe took a deep breath and he knew that he was about to get reprimanded. “Lucifer. It was off record, and I’d like to have an official testimony,” she clarified sternly, clearly not appreciating his overprotective remarks.

The man before them ignored their exchange and added incredulously: “You caught me in the act. I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

Chloe nodded, her attention back at the killer. “It is, but why?,” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

The man looked taken aback by such a line of questioning. “Why? Isn’t it obvious?” When the Detective remained silent, looking at him expectantly, he decided to continue: “No one would punish those people for their betrayal, I just wanted to make things right,” he admitted calmly, not even sparing a look at Lucifer who had just rolled his eyes.

“Even though you have literally no right to judge their actions,” Lucifer interjected quickly, earning a disapproving glance from Chloe. He ignored it, however, raising from his chair to get closer to the man. “Tell me, what is it that you truly desire?” His smirk was exceptionally diabolical this time, while Lucifer studied the man’s face closely.

It let the Devil spot a little twitch of the man’s lips and contempt that seemed to fill his eyes. “To bring justice on Earth, since God clearly couldn’t care less,” the killer scoffed, giving Lucifer a challenging look.

The Devil would laugh if he didn’t see out of the corner of his eye how the Detective slightly tensed and gazed at him, asking him silently to go off to the side to talk. He was beside her as soon as she stood up, ignoring the confounded man on the other side of the table.

Chloe cleared her throat and took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. “Was that remark in any way—relevant?,” she asked quietly, her voice somewhat strained.

Lucifer gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “No need to get paranoid, Detective,” he assured lightly. “And I suppose not. I’ve noticed that you humans really fancy a notion of the higher power you can blame for everything that is wrong in the world, whether you actually believe in its existence or not,” he added softly.

She nodded slowly, biting her lip. He could tell she was processing that information, but his worry only grew at her reaction. Nobody should be expected to fully grasp the concept of divinity so swiftly and there was a big possibility she wasn’t coping with it as well as she appeared.

Lucifer leaned closer to her, trying to find her gaze. “Detective, if it’s too difficult for you—”

Chloe shook her head, looking away from him. “No, it’s okay, we should move on with—”

Before she could finish, the man they were interrogating chose to speak: “I’m not the only one with such a desire, I think you should keep that in mind.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow, stepping to the table again, back in her detective mode. “Okay. And I doubt you’ll elaborate on that.”

His only answer was a shrug and nothing infuriated Lucifer more at the moment than the man’s smug look.

“I believe our conversation is over,” the Detective declared, walking towards the door and motioning at Lucifer to follow her.

They almost left, but the man spoke once again, his lips curling in a strange small smile: “Oh, and I almost forgot—belated, but warm welcome in the City of Angels, Your Hellish Highness.”

Lucifer felt as if somebody had just poured cold water on him. That statement might have been completely meaningless, he reminded himself; there was something on that man’s face, however, that aroused both his curiosity and his worry.

His feet seemed to move on its own accord, when Lucifer went after the Detective out of the interrogation room, the door closing shut behind their backs. “Okay, that was actually—perplexing,” he mumbled, loud enough that Chloe could hear him.

She pursed her lips, not looking very convinced. “I don’t know, he probably played along with your—‘Devil schtick’. Some people find such theatrics rather amusing to mess with,” she offered, apparently taking his earlier comment to heart, which actually soothed some of his nerves—he preferred the Detective frustratingly sceptical rather than confused.

“That I know, Detective—,” he remarked patiently, “—but there is something odd about the man that I cannot quite place.”

She cast him a quizzical glance, her eyes slightly squinting. “Are you going to look into that guy on your own?,” she asked rhetorically.

Lucifer adjusted his cuffs, avoiding her gaze. “Perhaps,” he admitted eventually.

“Then let me put together a report, and we can go,” Chloe declared, going back to her desk. She must’ve sensed he stayed behind, because she looked over at him pointedly. “We’re partners, remember?” Her stern expression made it clear that it wasn’t a request. “And now that I know—sort of—what’s the deal with you, there is no reason for you not to let me in,” she added in a bit lower voice.

Lucifer sighed, knowing she was right. “That’s true, but—”

“No ‘buts’,” she cut him off decisively, already at her desk.

She was about to sit down and get back to work, when a familiar male voice called her name. “Decker?” Pierce emerged from his office, a bright smile on his lips.

“Can you come here for a second?,” he asked and Lucifer couldn’t refrain himself from shooting Cain a sour look.

“Sure,” the Detective said, though her words lacked enthusiasm, and Lucifer almost missed her a bit nervous expression.

“It won’t take long,” Pierce assured, clearly directing his words more to Lucifer than Chloe.

The Devil just smiled bitterly. Of course, it wouldn’t take long—they just had to talk about their yesterday’s ‘date’. Watching as the Detective disappeared inside Pierce’s office, he shook his head, trying to redirect his thoughts to the man they had arrested. Unable to explain the unsettling feeling he had about him, he was certain about one thing—there was more to that Mr Andrews than what met the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we all know how great a listener Lucifer can be sometimes.  
>   
> I hope you liked this one.  
>   
> (Sorry that there's no preview — it'll be here tomorrow, 'cause I'm running a bit short of time lately.)  
> 


	5. Make Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only answer that she got from him was a stiff nod, and when she glanced briefly back in his direction, his attention was back on a row of houses stretching outside the passenger window. She didn't know how to interpret his behaviour, but she had to believe his silence wasn't an indicator of dismissing her assurance. Besides, Lucifer not talking shouldn't have bothered her so much, since he usually struggled to keep his mouth shut.  
>   
> Despite that, the silence between them felt awkward, more so than ever. It was almost as if a rift opened between them, one that only kept widening.  
>   
> Joel Andrews' house appeared in her line of sight, and Chloe wondered if they would be able to do a search in such an atmosphere. Maybe leaving the precinct wasn't such a good idea, after all.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got very little left to say after my much prolonged absence. I've been overwhelmed both by a few life-changing decisions and some health issues, which didn't really help with my writing.  
>   
> But good news is that I'm back and fully intent to stick around!  
>   
> I've given the story some thoughts lately, and as a result I've got a much better sense of the direction in which it's heading. The estimated length stays the same, but I have a feeling this story may grow even longer. Or I'll have to create a series and write another installment.  
>   
> Anyway, this chapter is longer than the previous ones, even if mostly consisting of dialogues (hence the title). Those conversations, however, are quite crucial for the conflict that is slowly building within the story. After all, Deckerstar has a lot of work ahead, before they'll be able to take their relationship to the next level.  
>   
> If you see any mistakes, please, let me now.

Chloe breathed in deeply, taking a halting step into the Lieutenant’s office. The perspective of having this conversation right now was neither comforting nor encouraging. With her mind engaged in analysing Joel Andrews’ case, it was even more difficult to focus on other matters, much less ones regarding her still ongoing emotional turmoil.

Despite her reluctance, she knew that avoiding talking with Marcus was childish at best, so she should simply get hold of herself and move on, like an adult woman that she was. At times like this, she couldn’t help but envy her immature partner, even if she didn’t approve of his silly behaviour. At least, it wasn’t expected of him to be so professional all the time, something that she was actually struggling with sometimes. But now was not the time to feel sorry for herself.

While Chloe kept lingering close to the door, deep in her thoughts, Pierce had already made it to his desk, apparently not noticing her hesitation. Only after he turned to face her did he realise she hadn’t exactly followed him. A frown crossed his face, and Chloe could tell that he was trying to make sense of her reluctance.

“How do you feel?,” he asked eventually, clearly finding something in her expression that was worrying him.

Chloe looked away, unable to bear his intense gaze, so full of concern. The fact that they had supposedly taken a step in their relationship didn’t make being vulnerable around him any easier for her. Had she more time to ponder on that thought, she might have realised that this couldn’t mean anything good.

Now, however, Chloe didn’t feel like thinking about it too much. “I’m okay,” she reassured him as much as herself, keeping her voice calm and steady. Another big breath, and her head wasn’t any clearer. “It’s just—” She bit her lower lip. A feeling of terrible helplessness that she had been trying to push to the back of her mind started resurfacing again. Yesterday’s evening had truly been too eventful. “I don’t know how to feel about almost getting murdered yesterday,” she admitted quietly, genuinely surprised at a sudden jolt of shame she felt at that declaration.

Marcus nodded slowly, and she thought that she saw a flash of understanding in his eyes. However, other than that, his reaction was rather restrained. She was used to Pierce’s stoic demeanour, and as comfortingly normal as it was, she felt like a more emotional response from him would be much more reassuring.

His gaze still locked on her, he took a few steps, closing the distance between them significantly. “And—did you rethink my offer?,” he asked gently, with his voice much lower that before.

Chloe looked down promptly, unable to repress shame that she started feeling at the thought that she had barely spared that matter a second yesterday. “I—I don’t know,” she said reluctantly, opting for an explanation that wasn’t exactly a lie. “I have to think it over with a cool head, and last night—I’m sorry, I couldn’t really think—clearly.” Her hands found their way to her necklace, her fingers wrapping around it tightly. Focused on choosing right words, Chloe failed to notice Pierce’s eyes following her nervous movements. “I need more time to sort out—,” _what I feel_ , she finished in her head, not daring to speak those words out loud. She wasn’t ready for it yet, not with a certain Devil occupying the majority of her thoughts. “To—to sort it all out.”

To her surprise, she realized that she was worried how Marcus would react, as if she owed him some sort of an assurance that they were still going to happen. The rational part of her mind knew that it wasn’t how things were and she wasn’t obligated to do anything, but, with the way he was looking at her, she felt bad for pushing him away yet again.

Luckily, Pierce just smiled softly, though there was something in his eyes that Chloe couldn’t quite place. “That’s—okay,” he said unwaveringly, grabbing her arms reassuringly and making Chloe let go of the bullet pendant. “Fast or slow, whatever the speed, I’m into this.” His voice was firm, as he tried to meet her dropped gaze. “If you haven’t figured it out, Chloe, I’m—” There was a moment of hesitation that caused Chloe to look up at Marcus’s face. “I like you,” he admitted, his eyes studying her features warmly.

A shy and equally disbelieving smile spread across Chloe’s face before she even could fully process his words. To hear something like that from someone, furthermore completely unprompted, it made her heart grow. Pierce really did choose to be vulnerable with her, out of his own volition. She was about to answer him properly, when she froze, her lips already parted.

_I love you, Chloe. And as much as I do, it changes bloody nothing if you can’t make you own choice!_

She could hear Lucifer’s voice in her mind almost as clearly as if he was standing right next to her. Granted, she’d had to force him to say it, it didn’t diminish, however, the sincerity of his words. And their implications. His issue with her apparent lack of free choice continued to puzzle her, but she knew she had made a choice long ago, surrounded by the sand and the warm sea breeze. What she hadn’t anticipated back then was how hard that choice would turn out to be.

Quickly, so that Pierce wouldn’t notice her distraction, she scolded herself mentally, making her smile grew a bit wider. “I’m happy to hear that.” She bore her gaze into the floor again, irritated by how awkward her words sounded. “I’ll rethink it as soon as we’re finished with the case,” she assured him, feeling his grip loosening.

He eventually stepped away, the encouraging smile remaining on his lips. She was truly astonished by how well he had taken practically being rejected, at least for the time being. He seemed like a really good guy after all—he was here for her, very much willing to start something, contrary to her partner.

Chloe took a deep breath, deciding to focus on the matter at hand that was Joel Andrews’ case instead. “And, about that case—we’d like to go examine the culprit’s house,” she said, bringing Pierce’s attention back to their work. “After questioning him and going through the evidence, I have a reason to believe that he wasn’t working alone,” she explained, regaining her professional composure.

Pierce nodded, turning to his desk. “You’re taking Lucifer with you, I assume?” His remark sounded neutral, though she could sense a strain in his voice; jealousy, maybe.

Weirdly enough, confirming his presumption brought her so much more satisfaction because of that. “Of course,” she said simply.

With his back facing her, she barely saw another nod. Marcus clearly avoided her eyes now, as if he was trying to hide that he’d like to hear a slightly different answer.

“Good luck, then.” His tone was stern, while he made it back to his chair, looking at a few documents on the way. “Just remember that we caught the murderer, so your further work on that case won’t be a priority,” he added coldly, back in his professional mode.

Chloe was fast to agree with him. “Naturally.” Turning around swiftly, she was about to leave, but she threw one more glance at him over her shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I decide,” she said with a soft smile, hoping that she would cheer him up a bit.

After switching on his PC, Marcus answered her in a bit constricted voice: “I hope so.”

This time she didn’t fail to notice how he was eyeing her necklace, his lips resembling a thin line. One more a bot forced smile, an apologetic look, and she was out of his office, aware now that the decision which she thought she had already made might not be as simple as it had seemed.

* * *

Lucifer stood still exactly where Chloe had left him, keeping his eyes fixed on the door that had just shot behind her. He’d rather not have her talking to Pierce right now, but as much as he hated it, it was not his call to make. All that he was left with was the puzzling case of Joel Andrews.

Despite Lucifer’s great interest in this weird copycat killer, he could only give him so much attention, his mind focused solely on the Detective, as well as everything that happened the previous night. Apparently, he was just as distracted by that whole situation as Chloe was.

With his distant gaze still directed towards the Lieutenant’s office, Lucifer didn't fail to notice the way Pierce closed the distance between him and Chloe, and his blood practically boiled at the sight. To his astonishment, he discovered that it was an emotion far different from common jealousy—Chloe had yet to get to know the true identity of her boss, and seeing her in his arms brought a tremendous amount of fear into his heart.

That was intriguing. Fear, that is. He hardly ever feared for his own well-being, much less anybody else’s. Well, he could recall instances of a strong sense of dread coursing through his body, especially during his fateful fall. This, however, felt utterly alien to him—to be so frightened for somebody, and a human no less.

His Detective was truly something else, evoking emotions in him he had never expected to experience in his infinite lifetime. Who would've thought that a mere mortal could have so much influence on him. It seemed so insanely impossible that it nearly screamed with a divine intervention.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, yet again facing the undeniable fact that what he had once regarded as the best thing to happen in his eternal life was nothing more than another cruel manipulation of his beloved Father. What was even worse, he'd been giving in time and again to the temptation of remaining by her side, even when he had been given a perfect opportunity to free her from that whole ordeal. He should have left the precinct this instant, but he couldn't bring himself to it, not after the promise he had given to Chloe, and certainly not after what he had heard in the interrogation room.

This Joel Andrews was so sure of himself, which in and of itself wasn't uncommon for psychopathic murderers. However, his remarks seemed weirdly accurate, even if their sole purpose was just to make fun of Lucifer. He acted as if he knew way more than he let on, which was a bit concerning. What if he was some sort of an unearthly being roaming the world of mortals, and what if it wasn't the only one…

That was a ridiculous thought, Lucifer was perfectly aware of that. On the other hand, it would be quite naive of him not to be prepared for such an option. The Devil knew that he wasn't the only one messing with humans, although he would never go as far as directly causing them an actual harm. It was all the more alarming, though, if there was a being who had absolutely nothing against hurting people.

Lucifer’s train of thought was stopped short by a light tapping on his shoulder. Barely refraining from snapping at the person who bothered him, Lucifer turned around sharply, only to face a bit bewildered Charlotte. A quiet sigh escaped his lips at that sight, which she clearly didn't miss.

She took a steading breath, averting her gaze from him for a moment. “I’d love to chat with you Lucifer,” she said simply, her voice calm, but with a strange undertone to it that Lucifer had trouble recognizing.

The Devil forced an apologetic smile that probably would look much more convincing had he actually cared, which he was far from at the moment. “Well, I’m terribly busy, Charlotte.” Such an explanation was perfectly true—he was very much occupied with the suspiciously enigmatic copycat killer and eyeing closely the encounter in Pierce's office. Therefore, he had no time to spare for his used-to-be-but-no-longer-is Mother. “I’m sorry,” he added, hoping that by being polite he would guilty her to let go.

Charlotte pursed her lips, apparently expecting such an answer. “It’s important.” She fixed him with a firm gaze, and something in her eyes told him that it was better to just acquiesce to her plea. “Maybe somewhere a little more private?,” she offered in a hushed voice, completely ignoring his last words.

Turning away from her, Lucifer hardly held back a groan. It didn't felt particularly pleasant to be treated with so much disregard, even if he often did so himself. Besides, he could clearly see how uncomfortable Chloe must've been, with her tense posture and vastly limited gesticulation. The plan of getting her out of Lieutenant’s office slowly started to take shape in his mind, and he was more than ready to implement it.

“Look, I—I really am in a bit of a rash, Charlotte,” he said sharply over his shoulder, not even bothering to look away from his partner.

Lucifer couldn't see her reaction, but he did hear a deep breath that she took. “Of course. I just wanted to mention that I met your brother, Amenadiel.” Her voice was again fairly even, even despite the slight wavering at the former Angel’s name.

Upon hearing his brother’s name, Lucifer’s mind came to a halt. Chloe’s current predicament had to wait for the time being, as he was suddenly forced to extinguish a fire he hadn't even started. Well, maybe he had, but he certainly wasn't directly responsible for it.

“Oh, deary me. I bet that was a snooze,” he said lightly, turning back towards Charlotte, who was apparently studying him closely.

“So you confirm he’s your brother?,” she asked, her eyes deadly serious.

Lucifer flashed her the all-familiar smile, putting hands in his pockets. “Well, yes, of course.” He shrugged, unable to see why that information held so much significance for her; he wasn't at all discreet in that matter.

Charlotte only slightly nodded, gazing away for a moment, as if she needed to gather her thoughts. Then, she looked up pointedly, and upon following her gaze, Lucifer found himself staring at the platform, which was overseeing the precinct. Quickly guessing her intention, he reluctantly followed her up the stairs.

Only after they reached the balcony did Charlotte decide to carry on with their conversation. “Well, he had some interesting things to say, things that you never mentioned,” she revealed, her attention focused back on Lucifer’s expression. “For starters, would’ve been nice to know that you were my stepson before I kissed you that night.”

Lucifer gave her an incredulous look, before bursting out laughing. “‘Stepson’? Right.”

Charlotte smiled at how ridiculous it sounded, but there was an edge to her smile that Lucifer knew had very little to do with amusement. “Yeah.”

“That would’ve been far preferable, Mum—Mum—my dear Charlotte.” Lucifer cursed himself silently for this very pathetic slip-up, hoping against hope that she wouldn't catch up on it.

Which she obviously did. “You said ‘Mum,’” she pointed out flatly, her eyebrows raising slightly, daringly.

Lucifer blinked. The direction of this conversation was taking a turn that he was liking much less with every passing moment. At such a pace, he would say things he wished he wouldn't sooner than he'd ever like. Perhaps playing dumb would discourage her, he decided. “Did I?”

However, Charlotte seemed not to pay mind to his question, analysing the potential confirmation of her suspicion instead. “So I was—I was your stepmom?”

“Well, not anymore. Look, it—it’s complicated, Charlotte,” he said impatienty, seeing that Chloe was about to step out of Pierce’s office in the corner of his eye, “and I am horribly crunched for time, so—”

Despite his insistence, Charlotte was far from giving up. “Tell me what you know, and don’t lie to me,” she demanded, giving him the look which he suspected she had perfected on both her children and any disobedient or too cocky associates.

Seeing that refusing to tell her anything didn't lead him anywhere, Lucifer sighed heavily. He had no idea what else to do to get rid of this nosy woman. Her curiosity and stubbornness were giving him a very hard time.

Charlotte apparently noticed that he was about to crack, so she adjusted her tactic accordingly. “Please, Lucifer.” Her voice sounded desperate this time, her painful confusion clear in her features. “I feel like I’m going crazy,” she admitted, reaching out to him as if he was her only hope.

Having closed his eyes, Lucifer took a deep breath. Amenadiel’s inability to keep his mouth shut was driving him insane. His brother shouldn't have ever revealed anything to the poor lawyer, even if Lucifer hadn't really informed him what happened with their former Mother. Of course, now it was the Devil who had to make it right. “Fine—Fine, I suppose you do deserve to know the truth,” he agreed finally, hoping that she wouldn’t believe his words anyway. “Okay, then. No sense dillydallying. I really am the Devil. My brother Amenadiel is a former angel. That time you thought you survived being stabbed by your junior associate, you didn’t. You died, and your soul went straight to Hell. Your empty body became a vessel for my real mum, the Goddess of All Creation, until her celestial light started bursting out of your midsection. Naturally, I sent her to another universe, so she wouldn’t destroy this one. Once she vacated your body, you, Charlotte, came back to life. All right? There we are. All caught up.” He chuckled softly, wrapping up the story as quickly as he had started it, leaving a little room for Charlotte to interrupt him.

Lucifer smiled gladly at her, a part of him hoping she would just laugh it off. After all, he was saying a lot of things that humans found ridiculous on a daily basis. She shouldn’t expect any more than that for him anyway.

However, contrary to his expectations, Charlotte didn’t look about to laugh. Her facial expression remained blank, but she inhaled sharply, her eyes suddenly distant as she kept looking at him.

Although he could tell she had taken it hard, he was unable to muster any sympathy for her at the moment, not after her insane insistence on him talking. “You wanted the truth? Well, there it is.” There was an edge to his voice that he didn’t even bother to hide. The Detective was out of the Lieutenant’s office, and he’d rather not have her waiting for him. “Now I really, really must be going because there’s an investigation I need to take care of, but—,” he was so angry at this point, both at himself and his babbling brother, so he couldn’t help adding: “if you have any follow-up questions, please, do feel free to—ask Amenadiel.” He flashed her a bitter smile, nodding curtly.

A voice that Lucifer would recognise anywhere called his name, and he brought his attention back to Chloe, who was looking at him expectantly. Car keys were dangling right before her, her fingers wrapped around them tightly. There was something in her expression that Lucifer couldn’t quite place.

“Lucifer, are you going or not?,” the Detective asked loudly, her voice both raised and somehow shaky.

Lucifer threw one last glance at still frozen Charlotte, quickly turning towards the stairs. “I’m coming, I’m coming, no need to rush,” he said with a hopefully convincing smile, though he could tell that his reassurance did very little to lift Chloe’s mood.

He came quickly down the stairs, trying to piece together what would be the reason for the Detective’s sudden hastiness. Only minutes before, she had clearly asked him to wait, and now she was the one awaiting him.

“I thought you've wanted to put together a report?,” Lucifer couldn’t help but point out as soon as he reached the lower floor, stopping right next to a bit agitated Chloe.

“It can wait,” she said flippantly, earning a sceptical look from Lucifer.

She didn’t, however, bother to elaborate, rushing towards the lift instead. Her rapid movements and a bit careless attitude were so very unlike her that Lucifer wondered if she actually was fine, like she had previously claimed. Not that it could be even remotely surprising, after everything she had been through.

Lucifer stepped into the lift right next to Chloe, careful not to enter her personal space. Charlotte’s breathless reaction had been haunting him ever since he had seen that terror in her eyes, and it made him think whether there was more to Chloe’s current state of mind than she let on. After all, it would correspond perfectly with her character to worry more about the well-being of others, rather than her own.

Something heavy started forming in the pit of Lucifer’s stomach. He’d been too reckless for his own good, showing his wings to Chloe just because he could, and now telling Charlotte everything out of spite. It couldn’t possibly end well, he knew it, and yet he acted on his anger anyway.

Upon entering the cool concrete interior of the underground garage, images of it all blowing up into his face flashed through his mind. His throat contracted painfully, and he had to clear it, trying to get a hold of his raging emotions.

Quite frankly, for all of his existence, up until this point, he had hardly bothered with considering consequences of his actions. Even if they had caught up to him rather unpleasantly, he had always been quick to move on. This time, however, it was different.

This time the perspective of losing so much that he had grown to care for—of losing Chloe—filled him with unspeakable dread. He had to do everything he could not to let it happen, even if he utterly despised how selfish a decision it was.

Apparently, he was unable to escape his own self-centredness, not that it surprised him. His dear Dad only knew how much he hated himself sometimes.

* * *

There was something quite unfamiliar in the air between Chloe and Lucifer after they entered her car. Ever since yesterday, they hadn’t shared so little space all alone, and Chloe wasn’t sure how she felt about sitting just a feet from the Devil himself.

A ride to Joel Andrews’ house felt painfully long, only punctuated by an awkward lengthy silence. Chloe’s mind was stuck in that weird state, resembling a thought limbo of some sort, in which the man next to her still felt like just her old partner, even despite the fact that she knew now about the Devil thing. She tried to convince herself that she had come to terms with it, yet every time it became harder to do.

Moreover, now she also had to do something with what she had heard from Marcus. Marcus, who was more than ready to start something with her, and a part of her wanted it too. Chloe hated to admit it, but she was starved for even a little affection. It’d been ages since she had been with someone, and her relationship with her emotionally unavailable partner was hardly promising.

Chloe sighed, knowing well that letting that train of thought continue would only distract her more. She needed to stop it, and the best way to do so would be to focus on something else. For instance,she could talk with Lucifer about something that wasn’t connected to the highly ambiguous nature of their relationship.

There still was a lot of questions she had for him, and now was as good a time as ever to do it. “So—am I the only one who knows?,” she finally decided to ask, careful to keep her gaze on the road ahead.

Lucifer kept quiet for a long moment, which for Chloe felt like eternity. “Does it matter?,” he finally said quietly, and Chloe could easily tell that he was on edge for some reason.

Was it her fault? Or maybe it was about Charlotte, whom Chloe had spotted Lucifer was talking to? She pursed her lips, wondering what could've happened when she had had her conversation with Marcus.

“To me, it does,” she said firmly, her grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly.

Lucifer heaved a sigh, still trying to avoid looking at her. “No, you're not the only one,” he admitted as if in defeat, and Chloe hated to hear him like that.

Part of her was furious that she had basically been trying to interrogate her partner, who seemed just as much out of his element as she felt. At the same time, however, she really needed that information—if there was someone, _anyone_ , whom she could share some of her thoughts with, she could piece it all together way more easily.

She risked throwing a glance at Lucifer, but he remained turned away from her, towards the window. “There is—,” he started, yet hesitated for a second before continuing, “—one more person who knows. And it doesn’t say much actually, as I am far from discreet, but she’s chosen to come to terms with the truth and continued treating me,” he confided cautiously, his voice unnaturally steady.

“‘She’, ‘treating’?,” Chloe repeated, raising her eyebrows.

She was expecting a tease concerning her alleged jealousy, but he seemed to weirdly not pay it any mind. “As in medical terms, Detective,” he just explained stoically.

Chloe frowned at that. Missing such an opportunity for some banter was very unlike him. “Linda?”

“Yes, and considering her expertise and experience, I would strongly advise you to talk to her,” he said quickly, stubbornly refusing to look away from the window.

Chloe was about to comment on his troubling behaviour, before his words fully registered. “Actually—that may be quite a good idea, thanks.” She nodded, glancing at him.

For a moment she tried to recall when Lucifer could’ve revealed his devilish self to the doctor, having a feeling that she should know the answer. And then it hit her why she should’ve guessed that. “Oh, I remember. You mentioned back then that you thought you broke your therapist,” she muttered in hopes of distracting Lucifer, who was quite clearly lost in his thoughts at this point.

“That’s how it looked like at the time,” he admitted reluctantly, but he must’ve been surprised by Chloe’s recalling of his words if his sudden glance at her was any indication.

Upon their eyes meeting briefly, Chloe couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth raiding slightly. “Somehow, I’m not really surprised,” she said deadpan, trying to lighten the mood somehow, albeit fruitlessly. Yet, more and more details of that investigation started appearing in the front of her mind. “Wait—wasn’t it that case when a murder weapon vanished into thin air?” A brief twitch on Lucifer’s face confirmed her suspicions, but she had to ask: “Did you have something to do with this?”

“Perhaps.” Lucifer looked away again, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Okay. So, what was it? The weapon.”

“Oh, just my sister’s blade,” he said as if he wasn't just describing a divine object.

Chloe’s eyebrows raised again. “Your sister’s?,” she echoed, not expecting such an answer.

“Azrael’s. Before you ask, she is the Angel of Death and her beloved toy had a rather unpleasant influence on humans—wherever it appeared, it always ended up in bloodshed,” he explained calmly, but Chloe could see some of his normal self slowly creeping back. “I thought it was hidden safely, but someone dug it up. Luckily, I’ve got rid of the bloody thing.”

Despite her relief at Lucifer’s verbosity, it was quite a piece of information to digest. “Okay, that’s—a lot, again,” Chloe couldn't help but say, trying to make sense of what he had just told her. “First of all, the Angel of Death is a woman?”

“Well, not a woman per se, but she’s certainly female,” Lucifer said pointedly.

Chloe was looking at the road with wide eyes. “Wow, that’s—a twist. I thought that angels were all men—male,” she corrected herself promptly.

Lucifer snorted lightly, a look of light exasperation showing on his face. “It’s not my fault that Jews were not really into feminism back in the day,” he said with a little bitter smile, which Chloe found comforting nonetheless. “Besides, I have a mother as well, Detective. So it’s not like Heaven was one huge male-only party.”

“A mother?” That was a lot to take in for Chloe at once. “So Charlotte really was your mother?,” she asked, recalling all the instances when her partner had called the lawyer his mother. His explanation back then had sounded a bit flimsy, and she would love to get to know the truth. “But—how’s that even possible?”

Lucifer winced at her words, as if her mention of Charlotte bothered him somehow. For a moment, Chloe wished she hadn’t said anything about the woman, her curiosity, however, won over her unwillingness to make her partner uncomfortable.

“She escaped from Hell, where Dad banished her, and she got into the body of Charlotte Richards,” Lucifer told her reluctantly, a shadow passing through his face. “But she’s already gone and Charlotte is back herself. Moreless,” he added quietly, one of his hands curling into a fist.

Chloe wanted to ask what he meant by that, but she bit her tongue, sensing that it was for some reason a difficult subject for him. In the end, she just opted to share her observation with him: “You make it sound so—casual, that whole conversation.”

Lucifer sighed again, his fingers fidgeting slightly. “Because it is all simply my life, Detective.”

There was heaviness to his words, as if he felt bad with admitting that, which puzzled Chloe. She pursed her lips, a sense of guilt creeping into her heart. “I was just—I—I know you always made those comments and weird remarks, it’s just now that I actually know the context and that they are true, they sound so—serious,” she explained, feeling the need to assure him that there was nothing wrong with who he was. Or, at least that there shouldn’t be. “Way more than your manner of speaking suggests.”

Lucifer’s face filled with worry, and he leaned away from her ever so slightly. Weird. “Would you like me to—?” There was a strange flash of uncertainty in his eyes, seeing which Chloe couldn’t even bear to let him finish the question.

“No,” she said firmly, giving him a serious look. Even if she was currently going through a rough patch with all that had happened lately, she was more than capable of being a highly functioning adult. “No, Lucifer, you don’t have to walk on eggshells. I just—have to get used to it, that’s all.” She shrugged, her eyes back on the road. “And slowly process all of it. But it’s like I told you yesterday—I don’t want to lose it, whatever it is that we have, not now, when everything is still so confusing.”

The only answer that she got from him was a stiff nod, and when she glanced briefly back in his direction, his attention was back on a row of houses stretching outside the passenger window. She didn’t know how to interpret his behaviour, but she had to believe his silence wasn’t an indicator of dismissing her assurance. Besides, Lucifer not talking shouldn’t have bothered her so much, since he usually struggled to keep his mouth shut.

Despite that, the silence between them felt awkward, more so than ever. It was almost as if a rift opened between them, one that only kept widening.

Joel Andrews’ house appeared in her line of sight, and Chloe wondered if they would be able to do a search in such an atmosphere. Maybe leaving the precinct wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

The unbearable weight settled on Chloe’s shoulders. She had to deal with so much more at the moment than she would like to. It all just came crashing down at her.

 _Just focus on the damn investigation_ , she ordered herself, when they finally stopped at the driveway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it.  
>   
> See you next week!  
> 


End file.
